Sword in the Stone
by vixensheart
Summary: Midoriya Izuku dreamed of things; of swords and knights and magic and fire. As the keeper of the sheep, he resigned himself to a life filled with monotony. Until he interrupted the Trails, and saved the life of Bakugou Katsuki. Exiled, Midoriya runs for his life. Chased by the past, he finds himself with a new lease on life. And then he finds the sword. [shortened summary]
1. One

Sunlight crept over the horizon, slowly warming the sky from the chill of darkness. Midoriya watched from his perch on his favorite rock, humming off beat to himself as the shadows softened and shrank back. He fished in his pouch, freeing a strip of jerky to munch on. The salty taste tingled on his tongue, and he found himself sighing. A breeze tickled his face, and Midoriya suppressed a shiver. He pulled his fur cloak tighter around himself, wishing for the upteenth time he could be back at his mother's hut by the nice warm fire.

The sheep couldn't drive themselves, however.

His gaze drifted down to the flock dotting the mountainside around him. Slowly, his dams were rousing themselves, their ears twitching at the shrills of birds singing in the breeze. Winter was coming to the mountains. He could feel it on the chill of the wind, and Midoriya was sure the sheep could feel it too. They caused little trouble when he rounded them up from their summer valley, easily following his lead through their hoof worn mountain path back to the village.

Midoriya ripped off another chunk of jerky and chewed. The jerky was nice, but it certainly didn't compare to his mother's warm stew. His mouth watered at the thought, and Midoriya could almost smell the savory meat broiling over the fire. He sighed again. With luck, it would only take another day to get back to the village. He could hardly wait; though his fur cloak was nice and thick, the nights were frigid and firewood was sparse. His flint was getting worn out, too. Midoriya made a mental note to break a new one when he got home. He polished off his jerky and stood, wincing at his stiff muscles. Midoriya puffed out a breath and stretched, his gaze wandering back to the colorful sky. If there was one good thing about the biannual drive, it was getting to see sights like this. He bent down to scoop up his staff and fastened his pouch. Satisfied, Midoriya straightened.

His whistle bounced in the air, creating an echoing harmony that roused both sheep and dogs. A pair of wagging tails bounded to him, and Midoriya bent down to give out some scratches. Mo and Yip snuffed at his boots and licked at his hands. They were mutts, raised exclusively to help herd and protect the sheep. Their mottled coats helped them blend into the mountainside, and both were large enough to scare off most predators and beings out to hurt the flock. Midoriya straightened, grinning as they both sat and watched him with keen eyes. "You guys ready?"

Yip wriggled and Mo '_woofed_'. Midoriya's grin widened, and he let out a stream of short whistles. Both dogs were off like a bolt, rounding around the herd and gathering the sheep together. The dogs and Midoriya had a unique language; whistles and yips, correlating to specific instructions. If he sang out a high pitched note, the dogs both knew to spur the herd forward. A series of short, staccato whistles told the dogs where to be. It was almost like a dance, and Midoriya's whistles were the beat.

Within moments, the loosely scattered herd was tightened into a surging patch of wool. Midoriya scanned the mountainside for any stragglers, and satisfied when he found none, he sang out the cue to move onwards. Yip and Mo's excited barks rang out in the brisk morning air behind him, and Midoriya couldn't help the spring in his step as he picked his way along the hoof beaten path. His free hand reached up under the ties of his cloak, fingers clasping the beads strung around his neck out of reflex.

Midoriya had walked this path so many times, he was certain he could walk it in his sleep. His feet knew every stone and dip, and though his boots slid every-so-often, his body compensated for the motion, keeping him balanced. That allowed his mind to wander, as it often did, and Midoriya found himself lost in a world within his head. A world where he didn't tend to sheep and life was a little more...exhilarating.

In his mind, he lived out adventures, with swords and knights and magic and _fire_.

A lamb bleated, bringing Midoriya out of his reverie. He glanced back, spotting one of the spitfire youngsters break away from the herd to trot towards him and shove its little head under his fingertips. Midoriya scratched the lamb behind the ears with a small smile and sighed. Sure, he loved his life. The sheep trusted him, depended on him, even. And Mo and Yip were his best friends. Always loyal and never judging, he could count on them to be by his side always. And yet, they weren't exactly..._human_.

Or, at least, they couldn't communicate like humans. Which often made these trips feel just a tad bit lonely. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and fumbled for his wineskin. His face creased into a wince; it was nearly empty. He'd have to fill it at the next stream. Midoriya took a small swig, wetting his dry throat. Even at the comfortable pace, he was working up a bit of a sweat. The thin mountain air wasn't helping either. It felt like little ice needles were stabbing at his lungs and throat any time he sucked in a breath. Not exactly the most pleasant sensation. Midoriya secured the wineskin and fastened it back to his belt as he walked, not breaking stride.

After all, he really did wish to make it back by nightfall.

He and the herd traversed downwards as the day wore on, only stopping once at the small creek that cut through their path. Midoriya made sure to climb upstream a bit to fill the wineskin, pointing the opening downstream as he submerged it. Just like he was taught. Once he, the herd, and the dogs were refreshed, they set off again, the top of the treeline within their sights.

Excitement sparked in his gut. He let out another piercing whistle, picking up the pace. Their people were a mountainous people, living amidst the upper reaches of the evergreen forest that blanketed most of the mountain range. The forest provided some protection against any unwanted beasts of the sky, and their altitude allowed protection against any unwelcome visitors from below. A perfect compromise, really.

Midoriya didn't care so much about any so-called beasts; in his time driving the sheep, he'd yet to encounter anything other than the occasional air nymph. The biggest danger came from predators, like wolves or cougars, and they were mostly after the sheep.

It was almost midday by the time they reached the treeline. Midoriya led the herd through the quiet forest, carefully picking their path among the bed of pine needles underfoot. Immediately, their surroundings were cast in a soft, muted light. The melodies of the forest wrapped around the herd, mixing with the thud of hooves and occasional bleat of a dam. Midoriya tuned out the noises around him, focusing his attention on the forest floor. His gaze darted about, picking up on the minute details that ensured they were following the correct trail. Instinct had his hand reaching for his beads as they walked, rubbing a thumb on them idly. Unlike the rocky peaks, the forest was rife with activity, and there weren't any distinguishable rock formations to keep one oriented. Just endless tree trunks spreading out on all directions, occasionally broken up by some brave underbrush taking advantage of the miniscule rays of sunlight that shone through the canopy.

Truth be told, Midoriya was a little more nervous of the forest than he was of the peaks. At least on the peaks, it was harder for large predators to hide. Here, wolves and cougars could be lurking in the shadows, stalking him and his sheep. He suppressed a shiver, holding his staff with a tight grip. Midoriya understood that everything had to eat, but he hated losing a sheep. His job was to protect them, after all. He remembered the stomach rolling sensation of finding the mauled remains of a lamb, the first time it happened on his watch. He'd cried, hugging the lamb's mother. Inui-sensei had shaken his head, exasperated, and scolded him for blubbering like a kid.

"Look, kid, this shit happens. 'Tis just a shame that there's nothing left to use, really."

Midoriya cried harder at that.

He toughened up a bit since. Midoriya couldn't exactly help but get attached to the sheep; while most of their clan merely saw the animals as a valuable resource, albeit a bit dumb, Midoriya spent enough time with them to distinguish their individual personalities. Sure, his sheep weren't always the smartest animals, but there was more to them than being wool making machines. Still, part of rearing sheep was losing some, whether to illness or injuries or predators, it happened. He still took the time to quietly mourn the loss, though, just with a few less tears.

A soft bleat snagged his attention, and Midoriya looked down to see one of the lead dams trotting beside him. He smiled. "Hey, girl." The dam flicked her ears, reaching down to nose the pine needles as she walked. Midoriya chuckled and scratched behind her ears. "Silly sheep," he murmured. His companion didn't grace him with an answer, continuing to nose at the ground as she trotted along.

Soon, the faintest whiff of smoke tickled at his nose. Excitement curled inside of him, and Midoriya nearly skipped as he picked up the pace. His gaze caught sight of the ever familiar bent trunk; it was an odd pine tree that seemed to curve as it grew upwards. This tree was a landmark for the village. Midoriya tossed an excited series of whistles over his shoulders, breaking out into a sprint. He could hear Yip and Mo barking behind him as they raced around the herd, bunching the sheep together so they could herd them through the village proper.

Amid the trees, there was flickers of movement. Midoriya could now make out the shadows of small huts, tucked away under the boughs of pines. He felt the tension coiled in his shoulders fade, and an eager grin split his face.

He was home.

Even the sheep seemed excited. Their bleats were louder, sharper, and they surged forward, trotting around Midoriya and into the village. He laughed and whistled long and low. He watched Yip and Mo bounce around the sheep, nipping at their fetlocks as they ushered them to their wintering clearing.

Villagers paused in their daily tasks to watch the sheep trample through the town, a few even going as far as to acknowledge Midoriya with a nod or a wave. He waved back, his attention darting everywhere at once.

For as long as anyone can remember, their clan had always lived among the mountains. In particularly, they'd always lived clustered at the uppermost edge of the pine forest. Their huts were small and squat, made out of a combination of wood and mud and occasionally pine boughs. Little holes in the roof allowed for smoke to escape, as fires were a necessity to stay warm. Nights could get cold, here, especially in the wintertime.

He drove the sheep away from the main throng of huts, to a clearing situated right at the outskirts of town. There, the waning sunlight spilled to the ground, and grass sprung up eagerly. It was coarse and tough, but the sheep ate it regardless. Midoriya shepherded the last of the stragglers into their makeshift corral, dropping his staff in favor of fastening the gate. While summering in the valley up in the peaks, they didn't bother fencing the sheep in. Their herd was well suited to the rough mountain terrain, and with Yip and Mo around to keep watch, there wasn't any reason to restrict their movements. Here during the winter, though, the threats to the herd from predation were higher. So, the corral.

A swift tug, and the gate was secure. Midoriya pulled at the knot a final time, just to be sure, and satisfied, he bent down to pick up his staff.

"Hey, kid!"

Midoriya whirled around, his gaze landing on the hulking figure of Inui. His shaggy hair and beard, rattling with decorative beads, often reminded Midoriya of a dog. "How was the drive? Any trouble?"

He shook his head. "No, sensei, no trouble. All heads are accounted for, and the lambs are growing nice and strong."

Inui jerked his head in a nod. "Good. Now you go get yerself a good wash and food, alright?"

Midoriya laughed, bobbing his head eagerly. "Yes, thank you, sensei."

The elder man merely waved him off, already moving to greet the dogs. Inui was the head of the sheep in their clan, a job he took rather seriously. Midoriya had a lot of respect for the man; with his hulking physique and his sparkling fire magic, he could have easily joined the Guild. But Inui always scoffed at such exclamations, insisting that tending the sheep was just as important a job to have. "We need wool for our clothes and bedding, and meat to eat," he always said. Midoriya watched him scratch Yip behind the ears, his gruff voice pitched higher as he spoke to the dog. He shook his head at the sight. The dogs loved Inui; it was as though he could understand them an some fundamental level.

He waved over his shoulder, not looking to see if Inui acknowledged the gesture, and set off for his hut. Already, the sun was shrinking back down to the earth, and Midoriya was exhausted after spending the entire day walking. His limbs ached, and he couldn't wait to curl up in his hides and sleep.

Midoriya weaved his way through the trees. His hut was among those in the outskirts of the village, nestled against a thick clump of trees. It was less noisy, there, which he figured his mother liked. He liked it too, if he was being honest. Being in the thick of the village was overwhelming at times; so many sights and smells and sounds. Midoriya wasn't sure how he would handle it all, had they lived there instead. Here, in their quiet little grove, he found a bit of peace. It was calm, comforting. Some days when he wasn't needed to help out with the sheep, or processing the wool, he would sprawl out on the bed of needles and just bask it the quiet the forest had to offer.

Golden trails of sunlight filtered through the pines, painting anything in its wake a fiery blaze. The day was waning by the time he made it to his hut, and Midoriya could feel the travelling aches and pains twinging at his muscles. He propped his staff against the side of his hut, his knuckles brushing against the well worn bark peeling off the home's logs. Midoriya sucked in a breath, squared his shoulders, and pushed back the skins hanging in the doorway. "Mom? I'm home."

"Izuku!" The piercing wail had him wincing, and Midoriya had little time to recover before his mother tackled him into a tight embrace. "Oh, Izuku, I missed you! How was the trip? Were the sheep okay? I can't believe Inui let you go all by yourself, I was so worried, are you hungry? I made some stew-"

Midoriya laughed, gently pushing his mother back. "I'm fine, mom, really!"

Inko Midoriya peered up at him, her large eyes glassy and brimming with affection. Any time Midoriya left home for longer than a few hours, his mother would nearly tackle him like this. Whether or not tears were involved depended on how long he'd been gone. It was embarrassing, but Midoriya couldn't deny the spark of warmth her doting brought within him. Inko managed a wobbly smile. "Yes, of course." She moved to untie his cloak, tugging it off his shoulders and hanging it on a pair of antlers tacked onto the wall.

Their home was small, cozy. It was about twenty paces wide in either direction, with a low ceiling. A firepit sat in the middle, fire already blazing within. Over it, hung an iron pot containing what Midoriya assumed to be the stew. His mouth watered at the smell, and his growling stomach an immediate reminder as to how hungry he actually was. He quickly fumbled with his boots, kicking them off and gratefully accepted a bowl from Inko before flopping down to sit on the skins piled beside the fire pit.

Shadows danced to the tune of the fire's flames, adding to the cozy atmosphere. Midoriya's gaze flickered about as he shovelled stew into his mouth. He could practically feel the tension melting off of him as he took in the comforting view of his home. The rickety table, piled high with raw wool. The loom in the corner, woolen yarn still strung around its wheel. Wool blankets were strung up here and there, waiting to be taken with the traders down to the big cities. Midoriya paused to marvel at the intricately woven patterns in the blankets; beasts and dragons and Guildsmen showing incredible bravery were forever immortalized in wool and yarn. Inko had a way with wool, and her creations did well for the village. Pride sparked in his chest. He was proud of his mother's talents; oftentimes, as a kid, he'd watch her work for hours on end. It was a sight to see, and Midoriya only wished he could do her proud as well.

He sighed, deflating immediately. Midoriya set his bowl in his lap, his gaze resting on his hands. What talents did he have, aside from tending to the sheep? His shoulders slumped.

"Izuku?" Inko's voice was soft, hesitant. Midoriya looked up, swept into her gentle gaze. "Is everything all right? You're awful quiet." Concern rippled in her expression, and Midoriya bit back a sigh.

"Yeah, mom, I'm fine. Just tired."

She squinted at him, her green eyes shimmering with some unspoken emotion, before nodding slowly. "All right. Here, are you finished with your stew?"

Midoriya handed over his bowl, watching Inko as she brought it to the table. Her tresses, a dark woolen skirt with a worn, leather apron tied around her middle, swayed as she moved. Firelight painted the fabric an array of fragmented colors, from a muted grey to a bright gold. Despite how well her quilts did, Inko never tried to over adorn herself, like some of the village ladies. She always insisted on being practical, telling Midoriya, "Fancy furs just get in the way anyway."

A yawn bubbled to his lips, and Midoriya paused his musings to rub his eyes. All at once, it feels like the four day trek crashed into him at once. Midoriya hauls himself to his feet, tugging off his trousers and reaching for his bedroll. His beads thump against his chest as he bends down to unroll the thick furs and wool blankets, straightening them out on his favorite patch of floor. Midoriya reaches up, his thumb and forefinger rubbing against the solitary tooth strung along those colorful beads, before sliding under his blankets with a sigh. He feels a hand brush along his forehead, and hears a soft, "Goodnight," before sleep takes him.

**~#~#~#~**

Birdsong filled the silence, alongside the constant _thud thud_ of his own footsteps. Midoriya hummed along, only pausing to take another bite out of the roll clutched in his hands. The bread was pretty dry; grain was hard to come by up here in the mountains, and typically the cheapest grains to trade for weren't exactly the most delicious. Still, bread was bread, and it made for a decent enough breakfast.

He felt a little bad for dashing out of the hut the instant the sun was up, but Midoriya couldn't quell the need to be up and _moving_. The biannual drives always made him feel antsy afterwards, at least for a few days. He always struggled to relax, that go-go-go mentality still clouding his mind. Plus, his sore muscles really needed a good stretch, anyway.

Midoriya's feet carried him around the outskirts of the village. Truthfully, he didn't really like hanging around the village center more than he had to; people here either pitied him too much, and it showed, or they brushed him off. Midoriya wasn't sure which was worse. Instead, he flanked around the tight cluster of huts, the smells of smoke tickling his nose and sounds of shrieking children ringing in his ears, and hit the well worn path towards the western peaks.

The eastern peaks were where the sheep summered; they were smaller, and riddled with nice little valleys the sheep could rest in. The western peaks, however, were taller, more jagged. Some of them reached so high into the sky, that snow and ice caked the rock, never to melt. Among these peaks hid some of the most treacherous terrain.

It also happened to be where Guild members trained.

The Guild were the guardians of the clan. They lead hunting trips, initiated trade trips, and defended the clan during times of war. Those of the Guild were often praised for their fighting prowess; people and beings far and wide feared them. Only those born with the strongest flames were even eligible to join the Guild, as well, something that twisted at Midoriya's gut whenever he thought of it. Those of the Guild were of high station in their clan, often looked up to by all. A part of him, the fanciful, hopelessly dreamy part of him, despised that he'd never get the chance to even try to prove his worth.

Midoriya sighed and shoved those thoughts away. He tried to remind himself that he still served a noble service for his clan, tending the sheep. No matter how...unflashy it was. Besides, he _could_ still watch them train. Eagerness fizzled in his veins. Midoriya stepped lighter, practically trotting out of the treeline. His boots skid against the beaten down path, knocking against the pebbles that rested there. The hike took him up and up, over a ridge. The air was brisk here, sending chills up and down his arms. Midoriya tightened his fur cloak and suppressed a shiver. He almost thought he could see his breath; winter was surely approaching.

Low voices met Midoriya's ears. His gaze darted ahead, landing on a few Guildsmen walking ahead. Their bright red cloaks whipped in the breeze, a splash of color against the grey and brown landscape. Midoriya stiffened. He looked sharply at the ground, keeping his head down as he approached.

"...rumors of monsters rampaging in the south."

"Hmm. Strange."

"Indeed. Though I'd love to see them try to touch our mountains."

"Hell yeah, we'd tear them to shreds…"

Midoriya's brows furrowed at the words, but he didn't dare look up as he passed by. He kept his head bowed respectfully and focused on his feet. There was a flash of red in the corner of his eye, and the two Guildsmen walked on, their voices shrinking back to a muted harmony, before getting lost on the breeze. Midoriya slowed, casting an apprehensive glance over his shoulder. Monsters rampaging in the south? That sounded bad. He bit his lip. If the disinterested tone was anything to go by, the Guild didn't seem too concerned. Still, he couldn't help the shiver that ran up his spine.

There were rumors here and there. Rumors of dark things lurking. Rearing their heads from the shadows, creeping around the edges of society. Only, currently, those rumors were starting to hit a fever pitch. Midoriya had heard the whispers around town, whispers of monsters and dark magic. They were often dismissed, someone insisting that the Guild would keep them safe. Still, Midoriya couldn't help but wonder.

He huffed as he climbed. The path widened out, lined on either side by decorative torches. If he looked up, Midoriya would see Guildsmen lining the rocky walls on either side of the mountain pass. Voices echoed all around him, and up ahead, he could hear the sounds of fighting. A grin flickered on his lips. Midoriya picked up the pace, rushing ahead.

Supposedly, the training plateau was a chunk of mountain whose peak was shaved off by a massive dragon that once attacked their clan, defeated by the original founder of the Guild. It served as the perfect place for Guildsmen to hone their skills; large enough to allow numerous sparring matches to occur at once, and far enough away from their village that everyone can use their flames at maximum power. Midoriya's breath caught in his throat as he surveyed the scene.

Little pits were carved into the plateau, the stone smooth and scorched from the use of fire magic. In each pit, Guildsmen and women could be seen, duking it out in various types of sparring matches. On Midoriya's left, he could see the telltale splashes of red in the various arenas; Guildsmen, practicing and sparring. On his right, though, no red cloaks were visible on the trainees. Excitement coiled in his gut. They must be the enlistees.

Every year, when a clan member came of age, the Guild selected those they wish to recruit, and allowed them to train alongside their ranks. This training culminated in the Trials ritual, a test of arms in which the enlistees proved once and for all they were meant to join the Guild. The Trails were brutal, and often barbaric, but there was still something so...inspiring, when he watched. Midoriya trotted towards the enlistees' matches, excitement brewing within.

He teetered on the edge of the first pit, his hands curling into fists as his gaze swept down into the arena. A dark haired boy, his hair swept back into a bandana, raced around the ring. Smoke curled from his hands, and he bared his teeth at his opponent. "Catch me if you can!" he jeered.

Flames erupted from the palms of the girl in the ring, igniting harsh shadows on her features and highlighting her coy smile. "That won't be a problem!" she said, throwing an arm forward. Fire spurt out towards the boy in a wide burst, nearly singing him. He dodged, bending with the grace of a mountain lion, and dropped to the dirt, rolling. The kid splayed his palms on the earth and pushed himself to his feet, leaving behind a smear of scorch marks.

"Missed me!"

The girl snarled. "You just got lucky!"

An explosion rattled the the earth and sent Midoriya stumbling forward. His gaze snapped over his shoulder, where smoke curled upwards from a few pits over. Was that…? He turned on his heels, nearly breaking out into a sprint. Dodging and weaving around Guildsmen and enlistees alike, Midoriya skid to a halt at a pit, just a little ways down from where he was before. His gaze landed on a familiar mop of wheat blond hair, right before another explosion burned in his eyes.

"_Die!_"

Midoriya grinned.

There, amidst the smoke and ashes, stood none other than Bakugou Katsuki. A ferocious snarl twisted at his features, matching the wild look in his eyes. His hands, half curled into fists, were smoking from use. Ash and soot coated him from head to toe, even streaking the rock around him. His opponent, a girl Midoriya recognized as Utsushimi Camie, glowered at him from across the ring. "That's not very heroic," she muttered. The air around her appeared the shimmer as heat rolled off her in waves. Midoriya watched, fascinated, as the rock beneath her hands and feet began to melt. She surged forward, flinging a fistfull of molten rock Bakugou's way. He dodged with ease, launching another explosion at her.

Fire manifested itself in a variety of ways among their clan. That was their magical element. People could do anything from spew flames from their mouth, to launch a series of explosions from their palms, like Bakugou.

Utsushimi rolled out of the smoke, coughing. She wiped ash from her face, her expression set with determination. There was a growl, and she launched herself forward again. Bakugou grinned, wicked. He threw up both hands, palms sparking. "Die!"

Heat stung at Midoriya's face, and he threw up an arm over his face, squinting his eyes shut as dust and soot rained down. He blinked, squinting back down into the ring. Utsushimi staggered in place, her face drawn in a frown. Soot streaked her trousers and her corset had some singe marks on it. "Is that all you've got?" she taunted. She stepped lightly, trying to circle to Bakugou's left. He kept her square in his sights though, his face set in a snarl.

"Fuck you." Flames popped and crackled above his palms, but Bakugou didn't fire at her. He merely watched her with a determined glare.

Utsushimi's frown deepened. "You say that as though you don't want to," she said, her voice a pur. Midoriya flushed at that. A dirty move, for sure. He couldn't get a good enough glimpse at Bakugo's face to see his expression, but he could tell by the tenseness of his shoulders and the staccato bursts of his flames that he was embarrassed.

An opening.

Midoriya held his breath. Time seemed to slow. Utsushimi's foot shifted, the rock beneath her red-hot. In a fluid motion, she swept her boot against the ground, kicking up a screen of molten rock. Bakugou cursed, throwing his hands up to block the spray, and then she was upon him. He cried out at a deft kick to the side, and Midoriya could see the gleam of Utsudhimi's wild grin. "Got you!" she shrieked, elated. Bakugou tucked in his arms, rolling, before springing back onto his feet. The explosion erupted before Midoriya could even blink.

"Die!"

Utsushimi didn't even stand a chance. As soon as the dust cleared, Bakugou was upon her, kicking and punching. She tried to parry back, but Bakugo was relentless. He was a reckless force of fury, and there was no stopping him. "Die, die, die!" he screeched, landing a series of harsh blows to her face, arms, and torso. Utsushimi stumbled back, unable to ecen punch back. Bakugo grinned manically and reared up, kicking at her legs. She went down hard, landing on the ground with a _thud_.

Just like that, the match was over.

Bakugou stood tall, shoulders heaving as he grinned. "I win," he said. Utsushimi seemed to say something, but Midoriya couldn't hear her over the roaring bystanders.

"That Bakugou is a riot," someone said beside him. Midoriya peeked, blanching at the red cloak draped over the stranger's shoulders. Guildsmen.

"Yeah, tell me about it. His flame is insane. He'll probably put the Trials to shame."

There was a snort. "Makes sense though. Captain's his mother, after all."

"Only Captain Bakugou would have a kid as explosive as she is," the other Guildsman laughed. His companions laughed alongside him, racious and loud. Midoriya snapped his gaze back to the pit. He clenched his fists, gulping, and tried to remain as still as possible. Anxiety coiled like a snake in his gut, slithering into his bloodstream and making his skin tingle.

By law, he was allowed, just like any other clan member, to watch the Guildsmen practise. However, not everyone was fond of a flameless sheep herder running loose amidst the training grounds. Midoriya grimaced at the thought. Yes, it was best to remain largely unnoticed. He took a step back, nearly running into the person behind him, before working to weave his way out of the crowd that had gathered.

His grimace melted away into a small grin. That was the thing with Bakugo; no matter who he sparred with, his matches were sure to draw attention. His fighting prowess was a huge factor, of course, but there was also the explosive quality of his flame. It was _very_ hard to miss.

Midoriya wandered over to the next pit. Once again, it was a pair of enlistees, two he didn't recognize. He stopped anyway, settling down on the edge of the arena to watch. The match was interesting enough; the taller boy had a strong, steady flame that spewed from his palms in any direction he pleased. Things were looking tough for the shorter boy; he could breathe flames, but they didn't reach quite as far. Midoriya rubbed his chin, his brow furrowing.

It would be hard for the firebreather to get close, what with the other boy's flame having such reach. He'd have to get creative… How though? Precision was key, he supposed. Predict the other boy's movements, give him a feint, and a hefty kick or punch could take him down. Otherwise the match was as good as won; the taller boy could just keep his opponent on his feet until he couldn't continue.

"Oh! Deku!"

Midoriya froze, squeaking. He peeked over his shoulder, his gaze meeting the teasing glint of Utsushimi's. "O-oh, hey, what's up?"

She skipped over to him, her honey-blonde curls bouncing on her shoulders. Her face was still streaked with ash from her match with Bakugou, and there were singe marks on her clothes. "Whatcha doing, stalking us?" she said, giggling. Midoriya felt his cheeks alight, and he wondered faintly if that was what it felt like to have a flame.

"No of-of course not! I was just, I uh didn't have anything-"

"The fuck are you talking to this nerd for?" Bakugou's smoldering gaze appeared over Utsushimi's shoulder, catching Midoriya in its scorching intensity. He managed a wobbly grin, waving halfheartedly at the explosive boy.

"Hey, Kacchan! I saw your match, good work out there."

Bakugou snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Of fucking course, I won after all, dipshit." There was a ring of pride in his voice that Midoriya didn't miss, and he stalked over and plopped down beside him. Bakugou threw a look at Utsushimi, seemingly unimpressed. "You gonna sit or what?"

She skipped to his side, twirling a strand of hair on her finger. Midoriya blinked. Well, alright, then. He returned his focus to the match down below with a sigh. They were an...odd group, to say the least. Midoriya snuck a glance at the boy beside him.

Bakugou Katsuki was a bit of an enigma. He was explosive, literally and figuratively. He had the patience of a scrawny chicken, had a mouth fouler than the traders from the northern seas, and had an ego so big, Midoriya worried he'd hit his head on all the stars in the sky. Bakugou also had a habit of ragging on him every chance he got. From what little Midoriya understood about friendship, he was pretty sure theirs wasn't normal.

"The hell are you looking at, Deku?"

Midoriya flushed, his gaze snapping back to the arena. "Nu-nothing!" he stammered. Fire lit up the pit, flames dancing in Midoriya's vision. He could feel the heat blistering his skin, even from all the way up here. "Are uh," he said, pausing to bite his lip. Bakugou's gaze was even more blistering than the fire down below, and Midoriya forced the words out. "Are you ready for the Trials?"

The heat of Bakugou's stare ratcheted up a notch, before dissipating completely. "Tch. Of _course_ I am, nerd. Camie on the other hand…"

Utsushimi scoffed, her eyes wide and glassy. "Hey! I'm more than ready for this." She tossed her hair over her shoulders, haughty, before pointing accusingly at Bakugou. "_You're_ the one that relies too much on your flame!" Utsushimi huffed and crossed her arms, pouting. "You cannot just blow _all_ monsters up."

Bakugou glared. "Fuck yeah I can."

"U-uh, U-Utsu-"

"Camie," Utsushimi interrupted. "It's Camie."

Midoriya gulped, paling. "C-Camie has a point, Kacchan. Besides, wouldn't that just kill them?" There was a beat of silence, where Bakugou and Utsushimi stared at him, before they both burst out laughing.

"That's the point, dumbass," Bakugou said, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palm. "You have to fucking murder the monsters. Don't tell me you've been living under some rocks or some shit."

At this, Midoriya frowned. "Of-of course I knew that," he said. "I just...it seems kind of brutal, to obliterate them like that." He couldn't stop the grimace that twisted at his features, nor the shudder that ran up his spine. Images of charred bits and pieces of monsters scattering in the wind painted across his mind, deepening his grimace.

"Oh, Deku," Utsushimi said between giggles, "you're so..._innocent_."

Bakugou snorted. "And useless. Just like the rest of these extras." He gestured out into the arena, where the two enlistees were on the verge of collapse. A sneer graced Bakugou's features, and he upturned his nose at the sight, as if the grueling match below was beneath him. "I'm gonna blow some monsters to smithereens, and become the best Guildsman there's ever fucking been."

His words echoed with victory and promise, and Midoriya grinned. The best indeed. If anyone could do it, it would certainly be Bakugou.

* * *

**Wow, I haven't posted much on here in awhile. But since some folks in this fandom seem to use FF, I figured it wouldn't hurt to throw this here too! This is also posted on my ao3 account as well!**

**-Kat**


	2. Two

Morning sunlight, warm but pale, glowed in the clearing. Midoriya's breath puffed in his face as he breathed, like steam. It was a testament to the chill in the air and the frost that coated the grass underfoot. Cool mornings were growing more and more common, as the season wore on. Midoriya was unbothered by it, though, as he hefted up another log into place. The physical strain burned at his muscles and warmed his blood. Sweat dripped down his forehead and pooled at the base of his collarbone. Midoriya grunted as he lifted one end of the log, anchoring it with his legs. He grabbed the rope from its place in his mouth, and began to tie it around the log, twisting it expertly to fasten the log to the new post in the ground.

The bleating of his dams filled the background, clashing with the soft noises of the surrounding forest. Midoriya tuned it out, focusing on the task at hand. Even though the herd was safely back in their wintering grounds, work still needed to be done. Primarily, maintenance on the corral's fencing had to be finished, before the cold set it. Luckily, Inui had already cut the wood needed to complete the job. Midoriya just had to put the new logs into place.

He tied the rope off and breathed a sigh. There. Midoriya stepped back to admire his handiwork, wiping the sweat off his brow. The tie was secure; all that was left was to tie the middle and the bottom, and the re-fencing was complete.

The corral's fences were basically a bunch of logs stuck into the ground, like posts, with more logs stuck in an 'x' pattern in between each post. It was a simple design, but it kept the sheep in and most of the predators out, so Midoriya couldn't complain. He rolled his head, rolling out some kinks, and set to work. He cut some more rope, tying the same knot as before in the middle to fasten the two middle logs together. Once finished, Midoriya gave the rope a good tug, ensuring his knots were tight. Satisfied, he moved to the last section, tying it off with ease.

There. Finished.

A proud grin tugged at his lips, and Midoriya let himself flop onto the grass. The frost nipped at his skin, but the chill was a welcome sensation compared to the heat rolling off him. Just a few moments of rest, and he would get up.

"Hey, kid, whatcha doing?"

Midoriya bolted upright, his wide gaze landing onto that of his sensei. "O-oh, I was just resting." He scrambled to his feet, gesturing to the completed fence with jerky hand movements. "I uh, I finished the fence, so I thought I'd rest a moment. Is there anything else you need me to do?"

Inui placed his hands on his hips, squinting as he scrutinized Midoriya's work. The behemoth of a man nodded to himself, before uttering a low chuckle. "Nice work, kid," he said. "Nah, take it easy. 'Sides, it's about time for the Trials to start up, so work's over for the day."

A jolt of excitement laced through him. Midoriya bowed once, twice, grinning wildly. "Right, yes, thank you, sensei!" He stumbled after his cloak, snatching it up in a bundle and hurrying off towards his hut. Inui's boisterous laughter rang out behind him, but Midoriya didn't pause to look back.

Today was the first day of the Trials.

The Trails ritual as a whole took place over the course of a week. There were only so many enlistees that could perform in one day, after all, and in accordance with tradition, the entire week was essentially a holiday. The entire village was devoid of work; children played in the streets, lanterns were strung up amid the trees, and a festive air hung about the place.

Sweet and savory smells drifted along the trees. Midoriya's mouth watered, and he could feel his belly gurgling. Oh, gods that smelled good. He hugged his cloak closer, pressing his nose into the soft fur with a sigh. Mornings were spent preparing food, and everyone would eat heartily after the first day's Trails were finished. Then, the entire village would eat and party and laugh, as per tradition. Midoriya picked up the pace, excitement kindling inside him.

He wondered how many enlistees would pass, this year.

Last year, there were only ten enlistees, and only one didn't make it. Midoriya didn't remember how exactly that Trial panned out; he'd missed it thanks to a dire wolf attacking the yearling lambs. He only remembered the solitary hut, skins drawn tight across the doorway and torches extinguished the remainder of the week. This year, however, there were approximately thirty enlistees. It was an exciting year, and Midoriya could feel the buzz in the air.

"Mom, I'm back!" he cried, stumbling to a halt at their hut. He yanked back the skins, poking his head inside. His mother peered into the pot over their firepit, her face shrouded in steam. Warm smells of stew tickled Midoriya's nose, and he found himself migrating towards it. "Mmh, smells good!"

Inko blinked up at him, her eyes crinkling as she smiled. "Yes, well you'll have to wait until later to eat. Go wash up now, we don't want to be late!" She shooed him then, waving her wooden ladle about. Midoriya huffed and rolled his eyes, pouting.

"Fine, fine." He dumped his cloak on the floor, kicking off his boots and peeling off his vest and trousers. The wash basin stood in the corner, a solitary woolen blanket tucked into the low hanging rafters to offer a bit of privacy. Midoriya slipped behind it, tugging it back into place behind him. He left his clothes in a pile where he'd shed them; they were a bit sweaty from this morning, and he wanted to dress up a bit. He grabbed a clean rag, dipping it in the cool water and began to wash himself.

Once his skin was pink and clean, Midoriya wrung out his rag and laid it out to dry. He peered around the blanket. "Hey, mom? Can you hand me some clothes, please?"

Inko hummed, setting down her ladle and disappearing outside. She returned a moment later, fresh trousers and vest in her arms, and she handed them to Midoriya. He beamed at her and muttered a soft, "Thanks."

"Yes, yes," she said, "now hurry up!"

Midoriya tugged the blanket back into place, a wry grin tickling at his features. He pulled on his trousers, nearly falling into the wall while doing so, and slipped into the nice woolen vest. It was dyed a deep, emerald green, to match his eyes. Midoriya loved the vest; his mother had made it, spending quite a chunk of change to acquire the ivory buttons she sewed onto it. Midoriya brushed off some stray lint and straightened the fabric. Satisfied, he pulled back the blanket. "How do I look?"

Inko looked up and gasped. Her eyes grew glassy, and she clasped her hands together at her chest. "Oh, Izuku, you look so handsome!"

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thanks, mom." Any awkwardness was thwarted by Inko crossing the space between them and pulling Midoriya into another one of her bone-crushing hugs. He squeaked, fighting it feebly before accepting his fate.

"You're growing up so fast, I just can't believe it!" she wailed. Midoriya tried to respond, but his lungs felt like they were being squished. He just pat her on the back and wheezed a sigh.

Finally, finally, she released him, and they set off.

The Trials took place up in the western peaks, in an arena especially made for them. It was close to the training grounds, set in a hollowed out mountain. Rumor had it that the mountains all once spewed fire, and the people who had first inhabited the area became one with the mountains, earning their elemental magic. Those first settlers were, according to legend, their ancestors. The Trails rituals were in part, a way to embrace their flame and celebrate those ancestors, which was why holding them within the mountains themselves was so fitting. The future protectors of their clans, kindling their fire and their worth within the very birthplace of their clan; a befitting circumstance, Midoriya thought.

Inko and Midoriya strode side by side, slipping into the crowd that trapaised through the forest and towards the arena. There was a current of excitement in the air; he could feel it in the breeze, amid the endless chatter mixing with the sounds of nature around them. Midoriya clasped his hands behind his back and just listened, a grin stretching across his face. Children shrieked and ran about, their smocks clean. Some of the older children even had their first set of beads around their necks, rattling about as they darted to and fro. Midoriya reached up to thumb his own reflexively.

He wasn't sure how exactly the tradition started; something to do with conquests in battle, but every child in their clan inherited a set of beads at around the age of ten years old. The colors usually reflected some significance to the family, and the first set was always made by a family member, usually the mother. His own beads were various shades of blues and greens.

Midoriya's heart squeezed in his chest as he clutched at his beads. His mind jumped backwards, to a different sunny day. He remembered warm eyes, twinkling with a smile. A gentle voice, a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Izuku, this here is my lucky tooth."

He gazed upon the tooth with wide eyes. It was large, almost as long as Midoriya's hand, and curved. A fang, possibly from a fenrir. He gaped at the sight, reaching out to touch the tooth in the palm of his father's hand. "Whoa," he whispered. The warm smile brightened.

"This tooth has brought me great fortune; hopefully it can do the same for you."

Midoriya clasped the relic in his hands, brimming with happiness. He bowed wildly. "I'll always keep it with me!" he cried. "Just like you!"

He let his hand fall away from his beads with a sigh and pushed the memory away. Now was not the time for wistful thoughts of bittersweet memories. Midoriya forced his focus back onto his surroundings, trying to jump back into the festive feelings of that morning. Inko's grip tightened on his arm, and Midoriya turned to shoot her a grin.

The forest gave way to the mountains. The surrounding murmurs gave way to excited shouts as villagers and Guildsmen alike made their way to the Trails arena. Excitement fizzled in Midoriya's veins, and he had to restrain himself from breaking out into a run. Inko served as an anchor, her steady pace and tight grip keeping him in place beside her. Without it, he'd certainly have run off ahead and gotten swept up into the crowd.

Decorated torches lined the paths, their firelight casting shadows on the rock around them. Among the shadows, Midoriya could see Guildsmen lurking, decked out in their ceremonial garb. Signature red cloaks, accompanied by bare chests, and colored beads upon beads adorning their necks. Many of their beads had teeth and claws threaded within the vibrant colors. The Guildswomen wore their finest corsets, threaded with gold and red. All had their ceremonial bracers on their forearms and their best weapons clutched in their hands. It was a show of power; the Guild was to be feared and respected.

Their torchlit path wound up even steeper, taking them past the practice grounds. Mountain peaks reared up around them, some disappearing into the fluffy clouds overhead. The air was chilly here, and Midoriya found himself pulling his fur cloak tighter around himself.

"I wonder what the Trails will be like this year," Inko murmured beside him. Midoriya hummed. The Trials were usually held in the same format; one enlistee faces off against some beast, in a battle to the death. Victory meant proving oneself worthy of joining the Guild, failure was permanent. It was a dishonor to fail the Trails; families of enlistees that failed were often looked down upon by the clan. They mourned in quiet for a few days, before pretending the fallen did not exist. It was...unsettling. Still, it was tradition.

"Well, there's been a lot more activity from dire wolves lately," he said. "Plus, I heard rumors of another fenrir in the area…" Midoriya shuddered at that. Fenrir were massive, wolf-like creatures. They often hunted alone and were thought to possess magical abilities. Encountering one was unlucky enough, as they were fierce and difficult to defeat. It wasn't impossible for the Guild to unleash one during the Trials. "Who knows, really."

Inko sighed, clutching his arm tighter. "I'm just glad I don't have to worry about _you_ doing these things," she said, her voice soft. "I'd be beside myself with worry."

Midoriya felt his heart constrict in his chest, and he forced a laugh. The thought of worrying his mother like that though, made him feel a little sick. It didn't lessen the sting, or the longing within him for something more, but for once Midoriya was glad to be on the audience side of the Trials.

At long last, they were here. The gaping entrance of the arena stood before them. Midoriya craned his head upwards, straining to see the summit of the mountain. It went up and up and up, ice beginning to coat the rocks until it disappeared into the cloudy mist hanging overhead. Shadows overtook him, and Midoriya dropped his gaze back down to what has unfolding before him.

The cave gave way into a massive cavern, lit up by hundreds of torches. The quiet murmurs of his clanmates around him echoed off the stony walls, creating a cacophony of sounds roaring in his ears. Midoriya could smell the sweat and smoke mingling together; an odd smell, that he wrinkled his nose at. Guildsmen herded the newcomers through a short passage and into the arena. Midoriya gawked at the sight. Despite attending the Trails almost every year since he was born, the sight never grew old. Overhead, hanging on a massive chain, was a huge cauldron, with enough wood and tinder to fuel a roaring fire that lit the cavern. The arena itself was an oval, a few hundred feet below where he stood. It was surrounded by the grandstands, sections carved into the rock for patrons to sit and watch the match unfold down below. Every so often, about a good stonesthrow apart, was a little platform for a Guildsman to stand guard. And guarding, they were. Midoriya caught sight of the gleam of a cutlass here, the deadly glint of a club there. Villagers crowded into the grandstands, filing into their seats with an eagerness so potent, Midoriya could almost reach his hands out and _feel_ it. He led his mother down the first row he could slip into, sitting right beside one of the platforms. His gaze immediately dropped down to the arena below.

On the left, stood a solitary person. They stood stock still, hands clenched and ready. On the right, a gate blocked a massive opening, large enough for a monster of gigantic proportions to enter the arena. Which was a likely occurrence, given the history of the Trails. Just about anything could come through that gate. The thought alone was terrifying. Midoriya rested his elbows on his knees, leaning forward eagerly.

He thought he vaguely recognized the enlistee; they wore a white bandana across their forehead, something Awase always did. Midoriya didn't know him personally, of course, but he had seen Awase from time to time in the village. His father was a Guildsman, and a trader. From the occasional pleasantries they exchanged, Midoriya ventured to believe that Awase was a decent guy. It made sense that he'd try to follow in his father's footsteps; most kids did. Midoriya's smile faltered.

Most, anyway.

"Look, it's Captain Bakugou!"

Midoriya's gaze jerked up, darting wildly about. There, across the arena at the top of the grandstands, was an area sectioned off by the Guild. Large basins of fire cast an eerie light on the Guildsmen that stood guard there. Their spears, decorated with ceremonial tassels, glinted in the firelight. Amidst it all was Captain Bakugou herself, in all her barbaric glory. Her wild blonde hair, the same pale color as Kacchan's, was pinned up in a messy bun, with decorative beads and feathers woven into it. A vicious grin split her face, war paint splattered onto her cheeks. She wore the standard leggings and corset, her many beads on full display around her neck. Her cape, blood red and collar trimmed with thick fenrir fur, pooled down her shoulders and brushed the ground at her feet. The crowd shrieked with glee, pounding their feet and waving their hands in the air. Midoriya joined in, his veins fizzling with excitement.

Captain Bakugou raised her arms, and everyone fell silent. "Welcome, everyone, to the Trials Ritual." There was a pause, and the Guild captain surveyed the space, the glee sparking in her features like firelight. "Let us begin."

The crowd roared, and the Trials began.

There was a metallic screech as the gate was drawn back. The cheering died down to hushed murmurs of excitement as everyone watched the scene below with bated breath. Midoriya leaned closer, barely registering his mother's muttering beside him. This was it, the moment they'd all been waiting for. Down below, Awase shifted in place, his body tense. Midoriya couldn't see his expression from here, but he didn't have to; Awase was nervous.

Silence. Someone coughed nearby, and there was rustling as people shifted in place. No one moved, and even the murmurings stopped. It was as if the entire arena was holding its breath, waiting. And then, a blur of fur exploded into the arena.

A dire wolf.

It was large; not as large as a fenrir, but large enough that its shoulders were only a hand and a half below Awase's. Its coat was matted, and Midoriya could see the barest hint of an iron collar around the beast's neck, mostly hidden by its thick mane. The wolf's ears were pinned back, and it streaked straight towards Awase, snarling. It lunged, teeth clacking. Awase dodged at the last second, narrowly missing the ivory fangs aiming for his neck. He stumbled, barely having time to readjust before the wolf was upon him again. Midoriya could see the briefest flash as his hands lit up and then a mountain of grey and brown fur obstructed his view. There were gasps mingling with the deepthroated growls of the dire wolf, and then the beast uttered a sharp yelp.

Awase kicked free, his hands smoldering. The dire wolf stumbled back, its hind legs kicking up as it scrambled free. Its lips were drawn back in a snarl, and it eyed Awase warily. The distinct smell of burnt flesh and hair permeated the arena. Midoriya wrinkled his nose. Yuck. He could make out a bit of smoke curling up from the wolf's side; Awase must have used his flame and burned it.

"Oh, I can't watch," Inko murmured. Midoriya spared her a glance. She hid her face in her palms, visibly trembling.

"It's okay, mom," he said, "I think he's got a plan."

Though it couldn't be a very simple one. From what Midoriya could tell, Awase's flame was just the bare minimum. The grand majority of the clan had only a weak connection to fire; that is, most people could only do something simple, like manipulate air temperature or heat. Awase was able to muster up enough heat to scorch things; if he could do more, he probably would have already. But the boy was clever and light on his feet. He managed to keep out of reach from the beast, despite its size and ferocity. Still, to defeat it, he'd have to wear it out. Dire wolves were nimble creatures, known for hunting in packs to take down prey much larger than themselves. He'd have to exhaust it in order to burn it enough to take it down. Midoriya cringed. The way he saw it, they were in for a long match.

Cheers drew his attention back down to the arena. Awase was on his back, his smoldering hands clasped around the wolf's muzzle. It scrabbled at his face, whining and wreathing. The beast managed to slash his cheek with its long claws, tearing a cry from the enlistee and giving itself a chance to worm free. The wolf pushed its face into the dirt, rubbing its paws at its burnt muzzle. Awase scrambled to his feet. Blood dribbled down his face and dripped down his neck. He raised a palm to swipe at it, before uttering a roar. He charged the beast, palms raised and lit.

The dire wolf scattered. Dirt flew as the beast retreated, flinging up in Awase's face. He skid to a halt, launching himself towards the wolf. Awase closed the distance and threw himself onto its back. The wolf snarled, twisting and bucking like a horse being broken for the first time, but Awase clung to the beast with sheer determination. One hand fisted the wolf's mane, the other, lit and smoldering, reached forward, towards the wolf's eyes. The beast snapped at it, the click of its teeth echoing amid the shouts of the crowd. Dirt flew up everywhere as the two tussled in the arena. Midoriya held his breath; anything could happen at this point. He watched as both boy and wolf kicked and snarled and pulled and growled. They were both twisting and writhing and it was hard to get a good glimpse at what was happening. One moment, Awase was on the ground, the wolf's fangs snapping right above his jugular, the next, Awase was clinging to its scruff with a death grip, hands lit and burning its flesh.

And then, at long last, Awase reached up and slapped the wolf's eyes. The beast screamed, scrabbling and writhing and twisting, but Awase clung on. He moved and wrapped his arms tight around its neck in a death grip. Blinded, the dire wolf charged around the arena, trying desperately to throw the young enlistee off. Time ticked on; one lap, two laps, ten seconds, thirty… Its movements grew more and more sluggish, and a horrid wheezing just barely broke through the screams of the villagers in the stands. Trotting turned to staggering, and the shrieks of the audience fell to silence as everyone waited.

The dire wolf took one last staggering step, and collapsed. Awase released his hold on the beast, crawling out from under it and standing victorious.

The match was finished.

The crowd went wild, rearing onto their feet and roaring. Midoriya roared with them. The adrenaline and excitement of the match flooded through him. That ever present itch to be better, do better, be _someone else_ burned at his skin. He reached up and clasped the tooth hanging around his neck, heart yearning for flames of his own. _If only_…

A Guildsman strode out into the arena, red cape swirling behind him. He stopped beside the fallen beast, dropping to his knees. Everyone watched with bated breath as the Guildsman reached out, pressing his hand up under the dire wolf's throat. There was a pause, and he nodded seemingly to himself, before rising. "The beast has been defeated. Awase Yosetsu is the victor."

Cheers rang out once more. Midoriya let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, and he watched as the Guildsman pulled out a curved knife from under his cloak. He handed it to a dirt smeared Awase. The enlistee held the knife tenderly, as though it was something precious. He seemed almost awed that this was happening. Slowly, Awase raised the knife up, the cheers growing wilder. Thousands of feet thumped to a beat. _Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump_. Slowly, with with a reverence and trembling glee, Midoriya watched as Awase lowered the knife and stooped over the wolf. Knots tightened in his stomach.

_Oh, yeah_. Instinctively, Midoriya threw his hands up and over his face, interlocking his fingers to hide himself from the view of what was to happen next. The thundering in the stands increased into a fever pitch, and there was a moment where the noise seemed to coalesce into an untempered mess, like they were on the edge of a cliff looking down. Midoriya peeked through his fingers, catching the brief sight of Awase holding the dire wolf's heart in a bloodied hand, a wild grin split across his face. His stomach dropped, and he hid his face once more. Then, cheers rang out, and the moment was over.

It was a tradition. One that never failed to make Midoriya feel a bit...queasy. He knew if he looked beside him, his mother would be doing the same as himself, her face green and expression pained. Eating the heart of the beast you defeated; it was something Midoriya never really understood. Or liked. It was one of the very _few_ things that made him glad to be fireless, because at least now he never had to partake in such a ritual.

He only dropped his hands once Awase and the gutted wolf were both removed from the arena.

"I think I'm going to go get a breath of fresh air," Inko murmured from beside him. Midoriya nodded absently, his gaze focused on the Guildsmen throwing more dirt onto the red staining the ground down below. For some reason, the stain tickled at his mind, bringing forth an image of a sheep sprawled in the grass, blood staining the ground around her…

Midoriya shook his head, scattering the image. He swallowed. Trembling fingers played with the beads and tooth around his neck, and Midoriya tried to focus on the victor ceremony playing out before the crowd. Awase was now up alongside Captain Bakugou, a few other important Guildsmen and women forming a semi circle around the two. She held a lit torch, her face stretched in a familiar smirk. "Our first victor," she said, "Awase Yosetsu." Captain Bakugou turned to him, then, and Midoriya realized he still had blood smeared on his hands and face. A wickedly victorious expression colored his features, reminding him of Bakugou. The Guild Captain spoke again, interrupting Midoriya's thoughts. "Do you wish to uphold the light of the Guild, protecting those of our clan with your flame?"

Awase dipped his head. "I do."

"Then light your torch."

The young enlistee tilted the unlight torch in his hands, lighting it with the Captain's. The crowd erupted in roars, and a Guildsman stepped forth with a red cloak. Captain Bakugou handed off her torch and fastened the cloak around Awase's shoulders, signifying his acceptance into the Guild. Awase was an enlistee no longer. He threw a fist into the air, and the shrieks of the clan members around them grew even louder.

Captain Bakugou clapped a hand on Awase's shoulder, leaning close to murmur something in his ear. What, Midoriya had no idea, but the boy nodded and dropped his hand, stepping back. The cheering quieted down, then. Captain Bakugou looked about, a grin curling at her lips. "Let us continue," she said.

And so the next Trail began.

**~#~#~#~**

The night was brisk. Torches flickered along the walkways and lanterns cast light from overhead. Somewhere, Midoriya could hear the tapping of a drum, along with the keening notes of someone singing. Children darted between the trees, shrieking and playing, and the savory smells of meat hung in the air. It was the night of the first Trails, and everyone was celebrating. Of the four enlistees that fought today, all had passed, defeating the monsters they faced. Most of the beasts used had been dire wolves, though one had involved a harpy.

That was a tough match to watch.

Midoriya leaned against a tree, nibbling on a bit of meat. According to custom, the families of the new Guildsmen came together to roast the beasts their former enlistees had slain, and the meat was shared with all the villagers, alongside the food everyone else had already prepared. Midoriya had snatched a strip of meat from one of the wolves; it was tender and lean, and tasted of smoke and game. He took another bite, his gaze drifting off into the smoke curling in the air. Inko had already left for their hut, citing the need to finish the quilt she was working on as a reason to skirt out of the festivities. Midoriya couldn't help but shake his head; his mother, as sweet as she was, was awkward amidst the villagers of their clan. He supposed they had that in common, seeing as he had no one to converse with and was hiding out amid the trees. Still, he had no desire to sit idly in the quiet of their shared hut, so here he was. Midoriya pushed himself off the tree and let his feet guide him through the milling people, fragmented conversations washing over him.

He was lost in his own thoughts when he tripped over a root, stumbling right into someone. Midoriya yelped and threw his arms out, catching them by the shoulders. "Whoops, so-sorry!" he stammered. Bright eyes blinked at him, and Midoriya felt his heart leap to his throat when he realized who it was he'd stumbled right into.

"Oh, Deku!" Utsushimi chirped. "Hi! Are you enjoying the festival? Did you see my Trial? Wasn't I _awesome?_" She pulled free of his grasp, twirling with enough flair to whip her red cloak up. Midoriya felt his face grow hot and his mouth grow dry. He tried to stammer back a response, but the words didn't come. Not that it mattered; Utsushimi was already off rambling about everything and anything, constantly swaying the cloak settled about her shoulders. Her match had been quite the show. She'd used her flame to punch straight through the wolf she fought, melting its skin and organs on contact. It had been a very, very quick match.

And a gory one, at that.

"Oi, the fuck are you doing?"

Midoriya flinched, his gaze darting over Utsushimi's shoulder to meet that of Bakugou's. He shouldered his way over to them, his expression irritated. Utsushimi tossed an arm over Midoriya's shoulder and beamed, rubbing a knuckle in his hair. Midoriya squeaked at the contact and tried to fend her off, to no avail. Her grip was strong, and he was left to suffer being manhandled. "Oh, I was just catching up with Deku! We were talking about the matches, weren't we?"

Bakugou rolled his eyes. "Tch. The dumb shepard looks like he's gonna wet himself."

Midoriya wheezed. He managed to finally pry himself free from Utsushimi's grasp and shot Bakugou a frown. "I-I was not…"

"Whatever, don't care." Bakugou turned his glare to Utsushimi. "I thought we were gonna go blow some shit up?"

She tilted her head, blinking. "Blow shit up? I thought you wanted to _train?_" A mischievous glint shone in her eyes, and Midoriya couldn't quell the bolt of terror rearing up in his stomach. That was never a good look; it always meant trouble. Always. Utsushimi sidled up to Bakugou, poking his cheek. "Aw, are you nervous, Baku?"

Smoke curled from Bakugou's fists, and Midoriya could hear sharp pops bursting into the night. His glare turned murderous, and Bakugou leered at Utsushimi. "No, I'm not fucking nervous, fuck off! I just wanna blow up some shit, that's all!"

Utsushimi giggled. "Sure, Baku." She pat his arm, ignoring the way Bakugou swat her away. "I'm sure you'll do just fine, right Deku?" she said. Midoriya bit his lip, fumbling with his beads beneath his fur cloak.

"R-right. Ka-Kacchan, you always win." His voice cracked as he spoke, his nerves getting the best of him. Bakugou's gaze cut to his, and Midoriya felt himself shrink under the scrutiny. There was a beat while Bakugou stared, some untamed and unnamed emotion flickering there in his flame colored eyes, before he broke the spell with a snort.

"Whatever. Come on." He didn't wait for a response, instead whirling around and stalking off. Utsushimi giggled again, snagging Midoriya by the wrist and tugging him along after Bakugou. He suppressed a sigh. Why exactly he was always dragged along for these things, he never really understood. Why he _let_ himself be dragged along, well. Midoriya didn't really have much to explain himself with, except for how his gaze lingered on the tense line of Bakugou's shoulders. Bakugou was nervous. His Trial was tomorrow, and he was nervous, and clearly wanted to let off some steam. And Midoriya knew if he ignored that knowledge, he'd feel guilty. So he let Utsushimi drag him along so Bakugou could undoubtedly rag on him until he got tired and stomped home. Because that's just how their relationship worked.

"Where are you going, exactly?" Midoriya said, trying not to trip as Utsushimi tugged on his wrist. Bakugou threw his gaze over his shoulder and scoffed.

"Why the fuck do you care?"

Midoriya opened his mouth to respond, when his shoulder collided with something firm. He stumbled back, his wrist yanked free from Utsushimi's grasp. Midoriya snatched his wrist to his chest and looked up, an apology springing forth from his lips. "O-oh, sorry!" His rambles died as his gaze locked with the stranger looming over him. Ice blue eyes burned with a cool intensity that Midoriya couldn't quite place. An involuntary shiver ran down his back, and Midoriya fought the urge to run away. A dark, hooded cloak cast sharp shadows over the stranger's face, and Midoriya could barely make out some bizzare, mottled scars riddling the man's face before he was pushed aside.

"Out of my way," the cool voice said. Midoriya stood dumbly, staring after the man as he disappeared into the crowd. Utsushimi appeared beside him, her lips drawn in a pout.

"What was that?" she said. Midoriya blinked.

"I...I don't know." He turned, his brows furrowing. "I didn't recognize that guy. Who was that?"

Bakugou scoffed. "Who the fuck cares? Come on, you're wasting my time, dumbass." He strode forward, not waiting for them to continue. Utsushimi shrugged and skipped after him. Midoriya wavered in place. He looked over his shoulder, at the space the stranger had stood, a frown tugging at his lips. A bad feeling curled in his gut, making him feel nauseous. Midoriya breathed a sigh and shook his head. Whoever that was, they wouldn't dare try anything in the village with the Guild keeping a close watch on things. He turned and trotted off after Bakugou and Utsushimi.

* * *

**And chapter two is live on ao3, so I may as well post it here, too! I probably won't update FF as quickly as ao3, so just a fair warning there. Also chapter three is done and just waiting to be edited; I'll edit and post as soon as chapter four is finished and in the loading pen. ;) **

**-Kat**


	3. Three

The second day was almost more exciting than the first. Midoriya sat at the very edge of his seat, ignoring how numb his bum was growing. His gaze darted about, from the Guildsman standing, seemingly bored on the platform beside him, to his mother seated at his right, to the Captain, sipping from a goblet perched in her grasp, down to Bakugou Katsuki standing in the arena. To the untrained eye, he seemed rather calm and unbothered, as if he didn't care at all that he was here. His arms were crossed, and there was probably a scowl etched into his features. But Midoriya was used to Bakugou's standoffish attitude, and he spent years looking for the tense lines to his shoulders and the occasional, jerky shuffle of his feet. He was nervous.

Not that Midoriya could blame him.

Ever since they were little, people expected a lot of Bakugou. His mother being the Guild Captain had its perks, sure; their family was well off and well respected. They lived amid the hustle and bustle of the main village, and dressed in the finest of furs that life could offer. But it had its downsides too. Namely, in that people expected so much from Bakugou. Almost too much...

"_I'm gonna be better than everyone." _

_Midoriya looked up from his pile of sticks, squinting at the boy staring into the trees. "Huh?" He earned a scoff, and Bakugou turned to roll his eyes at him. _

"_You heard me. Momma says I'm gonna be the best in the whole wide world." He kicked at Midoriya's pile, his grin morphing into a sneer. "I'm gonna kick everyone's butts, and be _so-o-o _powerful, even the gods will be scared of me." _

_That was a bold statement to make. Midoriya gazed up at Bakugou with wide eyes, his mouth dropping open in a little 'o'. Of course, Bakugou was probably the coolest, bravest kid in the village. He wasn't afraid of the mountains, having lured Midoriya out there on their little adventures on more than one occasion. So if Bakugou said he was going to be strong, he believed him. "You're so brave, Kacchan," he said. "I bet you'll be a captain, just like your mom!" _

_Bakugou folded his arm across his chest, his smock wrinkling as his sneer turned triumphant. "Of course I will! Just you wait! I'll be even stronger than _she _is!"_

The clanking of the gate drew Midoriya out of the memory. The arena was dead silent, watching, waiting, as the gate was drawn back. Seconds seemed to drag on and on and on, and Midoriya could hear nothing but his own heartbeat thundering in his ears as he stared, fists clenched, down below. Bakugou dropped his arms, letting them hang stiffly at his sides. He glared towards the gate, and Midoriya could see him clenching and unclenching his hands.

This was it.

Bakugou's match was the final match of the day. Midoriya guessed this was on purpose; for better or worse, the Captain wanted everyone to remember her son's match. A quick glance up, and Midoriya could see her poised form staring down below. Even from here, Midoriya could make out her furrowed brows and pursed lips. What she was thinking, though, he knew not. All he knew for sure was the stifling tension baking the arena as everyone watched with bated breath.

Usually, final matches weren't all that exciting. Sure, the Guild might stack matches to keep the villagers' interest during the long day, but matches were long and drawn out, and sitting for hours on end can only hold folks' attention for so long. At the end of the day, the stands started to empty and people started to talk, not paying attention to the enlistee down below, fighting for their life. Today was different, though. Today, Bakugou's match was the last one of the day.

And people were excited.

Midoriya sucked in a breath, lungs burning and knuckles white, and then the calm was shattered. A massive hand-like thing emerged from the darkness, clasping the gate. Thick, viscous fluid dripped down the hand, dropping onto the dirt of the arena floor. Eyes blinked from the shadows, large and wide and glassy. They seemed momentarily unfocused, and a chill ran down Midoriya's spine as they rolled forward. The beast blinked, its gaze locking onto Bakugou, and a rage lit in its stare. A guttural roar echoed in the arena and the beast flung itself out into the open. Midoriya gawked. What...what on earth was that thing?

Its entire body was covered in the strange fluid, and despite having long, thick arms, it had no other discernible legs. The sludge-fluid-mud-stuff seemed to flow endlessly down the monster, leaving no true trail behind. It lunged itself at Bakugou, throwing out its viscousy arm at him. Bakugou dodged with a yelp, his flame erupting in an explosion from his palms.

Smoke enveloped the two, and Midoriya's breath caught in his throat. Surely, that explosion did some damage. Bakugou's explosions _always_ did damage. His throat constricted at the smell of ash, and Midoriya could almost see the charred feathers drifting down around him, the burned hawk at his feet. He shook his head, blinking down into the arena. Bakugou emerged from the smoke, a sludge covered hand swinging behind him. Midoriya gasped.

No way. The beast, no, _monster_, didn't even seem affected. Its wide mouth was curled in a manic grin, its curved fangs snapping with glee. There were no burns, no marks on its body. It was as though Bakugou's flame had no effect on it at all.

Bakugou ran, dirt flying from his boots. Soot streaked his face from his own flames, and his expression was wild. The sludge creature lunged again, narrowly missing him. A strange gurgle came from the monster as it gave chase. It was almost _gleeful_. Shivers ran down Midoriya's spine. He watched in absolute horror as it took every single barrage Bakugou fired off, not once stopping in its advance. Every time, there were no singe marks or burns. Bakugou's attacks didn't even seem to be tiring the monstrosity; instead the unsettling gurgling increased, and Midoriya had the faint thought that perhaps the beast was laughing. That was almost more unsettling than the noises themselves.

How on earth was Bakugou supposed to beat this thing? It was fast, almost as fast as he was. Its reach was insane; its arms seemed to _stretch_. The fluid-like skin was impervious to Bakugou's flame, and could take hit after hit without even a scratch. Could he punch it? Midoriya supposed that if there was a body underneath the sludge, Bakugou could just punch it hard enough to do some damage. Or he could look for a weak spot. But where? Its eyes?

Midoriya watched as Bakugou whirled around, kicking up a spray of dirt. The dust flew into the monster's eyes, and it reared back with a guttural roar. Bakugou sprung forward, throwing a punch straight for the beast's face. His hit landed with a dull 'thud', and time seemed to slow. Horror clawed through Midoriya's veins as Bakugou's fist sunk into the sludge monster's head. Bakugou tried to pull back, tug free, but sludge seemed to crawl up his arm. His free hand crackled with fire, and Bakugou threw it up and let off a blast. When the smoke cleared, Bakugou was free and stumbling backwards, letting out a few more shots in an attempt to gain some distance.

It didn't seem to matter.

For every three steps Bakugou took, the monster was only one behind him. Soot and dirt caked his skin, and his movements were getting sloppy. Bakugou stumbled more than ran, and his aim was starting to go awry. He was getting tired. Fast. And the slime beast was showing no signs of stopping. Midoriya's nails dug into his palms, the pinpricks of pain barely registering in his mind. This was bad. Very, very bad.

Bakugou ducked again, a sludge-y arm narrowly missing his head. He pivoted in place, flames crackling in his palms. "Fucking _**die!**_" He threw his arms forward, and with a massive, earsplitting _boom_, the entire arena was bathed in a white-bright light. Midoriya squeezed his eyes shut, clapping his hands over his ears. A wave of heat hit just before the crack of sound, blistering his skin. The entire arena shook with the force of the explosion, rattling his teeth and bones. Midoriya's ears rang and he blinked rapidly, trying to rid his vision of the spots dancing about. He squinted down at the arena below, his heart in his throat. Smoke and dust cleared, and despite the spots, Midoriya could make out Bakugou standing alone. His shoulders dropped with relief, and he felt like he could breathe again.

The monster was defeated.

The ringing in his ears subsided, and Midoriya could hear the gasps and shouts of the audience around him. The creaking chains of the cauldron overhead added to the disastrous harmony, grating on Midoriya's ears. He winced, glaring down below. Scattered about the dirt were smudges of sludge.

"Did he win?" Inko said, her voice soft. Midoriya shrugged helplessly. He couldn't see a body; apparently the beast's entire makeup was the slime. His stomach rolled at the thought. How did such a monster function? Did it not have organs? How did that even _work?_ He supposed the being could just have had simple processes, like some of the stranger, smaller animals out there in the world, but the thought was bizarre. The monster was rather large to not have a skeleton, or _organs_. Midoriya sighed. Whatever, it didn't matter.

Right?

His brows furrowed. The arena was still. Bakugou remained alone amidst the debris left by the smoking bits of monster; why wasn't the Guild sending someone down? Midoriya's gaze flickered up to where the majority of the Guildsman stood clustered around the Captain. No one moved. They all stared, expectant, down into the arena. Midoriya's frown deepened, and he dropped his gaze back to Bakugou, a sick feeling swirling in his stomach. What…?

The slime puddles started to move. They slid and wriggled, congealing together in larger and larger clumps. Bakugou let out a yowl, springing back in an attempt to evade the sludge puddles, but to no avail. His massive explosion might have succeeded in parsing out the monster, but Midoriya could see bits of slime sticking to his hair, his face, his torso. And it was writhing around him, crawling up his legs, covering his face. Midoriya could only watch in absolute horror. This couldn't be happening.

But it was.

Bakugou stumbled back. He clawed at his face, flames popping from his palms. A choked cry echoed in the arena as he tried to paw the thing off of him. More of the sludge accumulated around the arena, puddles growing in size around Bakugou. He tripped as he scrambled about and his legs gave out underneath of him. Bakugou collapsed in the dirt, and the sludge was upon him. There was a strangled cry, that quickly gave way to a sickening gurgle.

Midoriya's heart hammered in his chest. His body shook, and he felt sick. This wasn't right. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Bakugou couldn't lose; not like this. This wasn't fair.

This wasn't _fair_.

Everything was spinning, spinning, spinning. Midoriya wondered if he was going to pass out. He needed air, he needed to _breathe_. Bakugou's choked cries echoed in his mind, and he stood abruptly. He couldn't watch this, he couldn't watch his friend die. He turned, teetering on unsteady legs. "Izuku?" His mother's voice hardly registered in his mind; it was as though he was underwater. Noises were muted all around him, and the lights were too bright. His panicked state left him disoriented, and Midoriya found himself staring at the platform with the bored Guildsman standing on it. Midoriya blinked. His gaze latched onto the gleaming cutlass held loosely in the Guildsman's grasp. Midoriya's focus wavered, and in his mind's eye he saw Bakugou, writhing in the dirt, covered in slime. His whole body trembled with the need to do something, to move, to not just stand there, teetering like a drunkard, and something snapped into place. As he stared at that cutlass, a moment of clarity washed over him. Midoriya's gaze slid back up to the Guildsman, seemingly unaware of his presence, and back to the cutlass.

His hands twitched. And his legs moved.

Midoriya was scrambling onto the platform and ripping the cutlass from the Guildsman's hands before he could really grasp what it was that he was doing. He leaped off the platform and into the stands, scattering the villagers as he landed in a heap.

"Hey!" The Guildsman shouted, but Midoriya was already fumbling his way down into the arena. He pushed and clawed and shoved his way through the audience, practically climbing over people in his haste. He could hear the bewildered shout of his mother, echoing over the crowd, but it felt distant, far away, like a hazy afterthought in his mind.

_I have to get to Kacchan, I have to help him! _

There were shouts and indignant yelps as Midoriya shouldered through. Blood roared in his ears, and he could faintly hear the yelling of the Guildsmen chasing him. Arms tried to block him, hands grasped at his vest and clothes, but Midoriya pushed onwards. It didn't matter, none of it did. The only thing that mattered was the weight of the cutlass in his hands and the objective wreathing in the dirt below him. At last, Midoriya fumbled free of the crowd, leaping out of the stands and dropping down a few feet to the dirt below. He landed with an 'oof', the air nearly knocked out of him, and the cutlass flew from his grasp and clattered in the dust.

Shouts crescendoed until they were pounding in his ears. Midoriya whipped his head up, his gaze locking onto the angry stance of the Captain as she pointed with her sword. "Stop him!" she shrieked. "Get him out of there!"

Midoriya's breath caught in his throat. Splashes of red surged within the crowd, dropping down into the arena. Midoriya tried to breath, to think, but his breaths were little more than a shuddering wheeze. Everything was spinning. The colors of the crowd blurred together, and he dropped his head and squeezed his eyes shut. _Breathe in, breathe out._ He raised his head, his gaze focusing on the growing blob rearing up before him. The glassy, unfocused eyes of the monster rolled forward in its face, its gaze clashing with his. It blinked, a mouth splitting into a smile beneath those eyes, fangs glinting in the fire light. Horror clawed its way up Midoriya's throat, and he felt utterly frozen. His previous bravado evaporated under the shadow of the monster leering down at him. He was supposed to beat this thing? He didn't even have a flame! What was he _thinking_, this wasn't _possible_, he was going to _die_-

A pained groan reached his ears, and Midoriya's gaze dropped to the belly of the beast. There, ensnared amid the slime and sludge, was Bakugou. One arm hung above his drooping head, the other dragged along the dirt. His pale hair was covered in dirt and grime, just like the rest of him, and he jerked, seemingly straining to lift his head. Their gazes clashed. Bakugou's eyes were glazed, his red irises dull. The raging inferno usually held there was dampened to barely a flicker, and that flicker shone with exhaustion and pain and _fear_.

And then all at once, the crowd and the Guild and everything else vanished. Midoriya grit his teeth and grabbed the cutlass. And then he was running. His mind was whirring a mile a minute, yet time seemed to slow. Yet, time was limited. He had to free Bakugou before he was stopped, by the beast or by the Guild. On top of that, he needed to get close without so much as being touched by the monster. Midoriya grit his teeth. That viscous skin could easily overpower him if he wasn't careful, and then he'd end up in the same position as the person he was trying to save. Midoriya shuddered and violently shoved that thought away. He needed to focus. The ground trembled below him, and the unsettling gurgling grew closer. Midoriya's gaze flew upward, clashing with the unfocused one of the monster. Its glassy eyes gleamed, and its mouth was curved in a wide grin.

The realization nearly made him trip.

_Focus! Don't lose your head now!_

But Midoriya couldn't tear his gaze away. He felt himself slowing, ice crawling through his veins. Oh, gods, this thing was horrifying. It towered over him, its skin oozing. The smell of decay hit him like a wall, making Midoriya choke. His hands trembled, and he feared he would drop the cutlass. Those glassy eyes held malice and pain and anger and glee and unspoken horrors; it was a maelstrom of emotions and sensations that had terror crawling up his spine. Midoriya cowered under the beast. How did he hope to defeat this thing? He could distantly hear the clamor of the Guildsman closing in around them, and the shadow of doom cast him in darkness and uncertainty. As Midoriya gazed into the eyes of death, he felt a wave of despair.

There was another low groan from Bakugou, and Midoriya blinked. His trembling ceased, and as he stared into the monsters eyes, and idea came to him. A stupid, risky, ballsy idea. The eyes. Of course! He could see the imperceptible shift of the monster just before it reared its arm into the air. Midoriya's body shifted on instinct, dodging the blow. A breeze tickled his cheek, bringing with it that pungent smell. Midoriya choked, stumbling. The beast swung again, nearly clobbering him. Midoriya managed to feint to the left and flung himself forward. He leaped into the air, clutching the cutlass so tightly his knuckles were wight, and plunged the blade right into the slime monster's eye.

There was a collective gasp from everyone in the arena. And then the beast screamed. Midoriya dropped to the dirt, clapping his hands over his ears with a grimace. Overhead, the monster was reeling back, scrabbling at its face to get the cutlass free. He shook his head, steeling himself.

_Kacchan. Have to save Kacchan._

He forced himself forward, forced himself towards the wreathing mess of slime and sludge. Bakugou was disappearing into the slime further; he could only see one arm. Midoriya sucked in a panicked breath and reached out and grabbed him. "Kacchan!"

He pulled.

Midoriya grit his teeth and dug his feet into the dirt, and pulled and pulled and pulled. Whether the monster wreathing and shrieking around him helped or made things worse, Midoriya knew not. All he was aware of was Bakugou and how slippery his arm was and oh, shit, what if he accidentally slipped? Or dropped him? Or-

Bakugou came free with an almost humorous 'pop', and the two collapsed in the dirt. Midoriya wheezed, blinking up at the shadowy stalagmites overhead. He did it. He freed Bakugou. He freed Bakugou, and they weren't dead. Midoriya rolled onto his hands and knees, reaching for the unconscious boy beside him. "Kacchan?" He got no response, and panic bubbled from within. The monster roared behind him, and Midoriya tried to quell his panic. He'd celebrated too soon. Desperate, Midoriya wiped the sludge from Bakugou's face with trembling hands. He cast apprehensive glances over his shoulder as he worked, his heart roaring in his ears.

Flashes of movement danced in his eyes. The sludge monster, wreathing and roaring in the center of the arena. The Guildsmen hedging in closer, their weapons gleaming in the firelight. The crowd, all around, surging and moving like grass in the wind, their gazes watchful. Midoriya sucked in a breath and shook Bakugou. "Kacchan, wake up!" he pleaded. Bakugou's face twitched, and he groaned. Oh, thank the gods. Midoriya nearly cried at the sound.

And then there was an ear-splitting roar.

One look had Midoriya nearly sick with dread. Leering up and over them was the sludge monster, its mouth curved in an exaggerated snarl. The cutlass was gone, and in its place was a bloody mess where the beast's eye once sat. That blood oozed down its face and mingled with its slimy and viscousy body, painting a gory and mildly grotesque image. Midoriya hauled Bakugou up, staggering under the unconscious boy's weight, and stumbled back. The beast's mouth twitched, and it uttered a snarl.

_"You. Dead."_

Midoriya blanched. That sound. That grating, horrific sound. It held words, short and choppy sentences. But worse yet, it held an undeniable, ferocious _anger_. The monster was no monster at all. It- they- _spoke_. Midoriya's staggering pace became frantic. This monster, this beast, this _being_; it could think for itself. And it was _angry_.

A massive hand swung down from above, slamming into the dirt. Midoriya was thrown off his feet by the afterwave. He slammed into the dirt, Bakugou collapsing nearby. Tears swam in his eyes, and Midoriya wheezed. _Damn_. He pushed himself to his hands and knees, his gaze darting about frantically. It landed on Bakugou, sprawled in the dirt, the sludge being's dark shadow swathing his features. Fear twisted in his gut, and he yelled, "Kacchan!" Midoriya scrambled towards him, grasping his arm and dragging him closer. He hooked his arms under Bakugou's armpits and hauled him up, scrambling back just in time to dodge another smack from the muck being.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck_. The phrase ran through his mind like a panicked mantra. He was stuck, arms trembling and legs burning, as he scrambled backwards just a hairsbreadth away from being pummeled by the sludge being. There was no escape, there was no fighting. Not like this, not with Bakugou defenseless.

The being reared back, its eye gleaming and mouth curved in horrific delight. Midoriya sucked in a breath, trembling. Ice crawled in his veins as it gurgled a laugh, lunging for him. And then, in a brilliant flash of light, a blaze of fire arched between them. The sludge being coiled backwards, screeching.

A pair of hands grasped his vest and tugged, hard. Midoriya whipped his head around, his gaze crashing with none other that Utsushimi. Her brows were drawn in a scowl, and she glared at him. "U-Utsushimi?" Midoriya stammered. Her scowl deepened.

"Drop him and come with us," she said. Midoriya blinked. His gaze slipped to her shoulders, where her red cape rested. Oh. Right. He'd nearly forgotten the Guildsmen were in the arena too. Hell, he'd nearly forgotten she was a Guildsman. Or Guildswoman. Was there a preference there? Midoriya shook his head, clearing his thoughts. Now was absolutely not the time to run off into a tangent. He met her flaming, russet gaze, trying to push Bakugou towards her.

"Take him," he said. Utsushimi pursed her lips, the fire in her eyes flaring. But Midoriya could see something flickering amid the fire. Embers of doubt, embers of care. With a burning heart, Midoriya raised his chin. "Camie, please." There was a bolt of shock, and she stared dumbly at him for a moment. Slowly, her fingers uncurled from his vest, and with a soft motion, she took the twitching, unconscious Bakugou from his arms. Midoriya's shoulders slumped in relief. "Thank you," he said. And then he was running.

Flames crackled in the arena, burning on whatever fumes the sludge being left behind in its rampage. They cast everything in harsh shadows and an orange glow, and made navigating difficult. Midoriya dodged flames left and right on his way to the rampaging creature-being in the center of the arena. Flickers of Guildsmen danced on the edges of his sight, their shouts carrying over the crackle of fire and snarls of the sludge being. Midoriya made sure to keep his distance; he needed to end this. According to their traditions, the match would only end when the proclaimed 'beast' had fallen. Midoriya didn't even want to dwell on the alternative.

A gleam caught his gaze. The cutlass. It laid in the dirt, not far from the beast-thing-being. Midoriya sucked in a breath. An idea sparked in his mind. If eyes were its weak spot, then, perhaps he had a chance after all. Sure, he wasn't as strong as Bakugou, or as lithe as Utsushimi, but he had a plan and that would hopefully be enough.

Midoriya ran. The arena rumbled and shook, growls and snarls mingling with the shouts of the Guildsmen and cries from the crowd, the noises all ringing in his ears. He focused on the pounding of his feet on the ground and the beating of his heart, his gaze trained on the gleam of the cutlass, forgotten in the dust. Sweat dripped in his eyes, and Midoriya had to blink through it. _Focus,_ he thought. _Keep your eyes on the prize…_ There was a shout, and Midoriya dove under a column of fire and onto the cutlass. His fingers grasped the hilt and he nearly cried with joy. He scrambled back to his feet, his gaze darting about. Running towards him were two Guildsman, weapons drawn. In the center of the arena, roared the sludge being, as it swung and swatted at the flames crackling around it. Midoriya gripped his cutlass. This was it. A hand reached up and gripped at the tooth hanging around his neck.

"_This tooth has brought me great fortune; hopefully it can do the same for you."_

He grit his teeth and moved. Midoriya ripped off his vest, wrapping it haphazardly around the blade. He then plunged the cutlass into the crackling fire in his path, catching the cloth on fire. Satisfied, Midoriya threw himself into the fray. Just as he had only moments prior, Midoriya ran straight for the being, flaming cutlass raised. He found an opening, taking advantage of the being's blind spot and cut close. "Hey!" he shouted. The sludge being turned, its one working eye gleaming with hate. Midoriya felt his chest constrict, fear clutching him.

_"Useless. Stupid and useless."_ The being towered over him, its rancid smell overpowering his senses. The words it spoke, grating and cruel, bounced around in Midoriya's mind. He sucked in a breath, feeling his arms trembling. He thought of Bakugou, his strength, and his failure. If someone as strong as Bakugou had failed, then what did Midoriya have to lose? He glared back, defiant. And then he leaped. Midoriya barely registered the surprise blooming in the being's expression before he plunged the cutlass into its remaining eye. He smacked against the viscousy body, the breath stolen from his lungs on impact. Midoriya dropped to the ground, wheezing.

Overhead, he could hear a horrific scream. Through bleary eyes, Midoriya could make out a massive, burning shape. A rancid smell filled his nostrils, worse so than the being's naturally horrific scent. Midoriya gagged, nearly puking then and there. He swiped at his face, clearing the tears, and sucking in a few breaths of air, he looked up to see the sludge beast burning. His jaw went slack at the sight. The being screamed and screamed and screamed, clawing at the cutlass sticking out of its remaining eye, its entire, fluid like body finally alight with flames. Midoriya could only stare. Did...did he do that? He merely expected to maybe cauterize its eye, to do just a tad bit more damage than before. Not..._this_. He was so entranced by the sight before him, that he didn't notice the Guildsmen until they were upon him.

Rough hands grabbed his shoulders hard enough to bruise, and they wrenched his arms behind his back, tearing a cry from his lips.

"Shut up and walk," one said as they hauled Midoriya to his feet. He stumbled along, half walking, half being dragged from the arena. All around, the crowd was surging, moving, screaming. Midoriya couldn't make out what was said; it was all a confused clamor. It didn't really matter though. He had won. Bakugou was safe, and the being was defeated.

The match was over at last.

Midoriya realized belatedly that he was being dragged to the dungeons where the beasts were kept. He cast his gaze upwards, landing on the stoic form of the Captain. Their gazes locked, and the last thing Midoriya saw before the darkness was an overwhelming fire of hate and fury.

* * *

**Update! This is a bit shorter, I know, but alas. Things start to pick up from here, so hopefully it's worth it! Enjoy!  
**

**-Kat**


	4. Four

_Drip, drip, drip, drip._

It was cold, oh, so very cold. Cool stones pressed into his back, damp with water and slick with some mysterious slime. Midoriya sat curled in on himself, his arms crossed as he shivered and trembled. His teeth clattered painfully, but he couldn't help it. He was just so _cold_. Even the air down here was crisp; it nipped at his lungs and stung his nostrils with a musty smell.

_Drip, drip, drip, drip._

He wished he hadn't burned his vest. At least then, he'd have a little something to stave off the cold. Even though he supposed the vest wouldn't do too much. Midoriya frowned. How long had he been down here? An hour? Two? A day? A week? He wasn't sure. The only source of light came from the ever burning torches outside of the too big cell. Or, cage, he supposed, based on the gouges in the dirt. Claw marks, from a beast of some kind. Midoriya couldn't see them too well; he could only just make out their shadows from the glow of the torch on the wall.

_Drip, drip, drip, drip_.

Midoriya leaned his head against the stone wall, peering through the thick steel bars. This cage was deep underneath the arena, within a series of corridors filled with near identical cages. They were, in essence, a holding area for the beasts used in the Trials. The steel bars that kept the monsters in where nearly as thick as his forearms, and they gleamed orange in the flickering firelight. Right up against the bars were two massive stone bowls fixed to the floor; for food, probably. Though Midoriya wasn't sure how often the monsters in the Guild's care were fed, given that the idea was to slaughter them. He closed his eyes with a sigh.

_Drip, drip, drip, drip._

He wondered how they contained the sludge creature-thing-being. Its viscousy body would have allowed it an easy escape. Had he even really killed it? Midoriya thought back to the way it screamed, covered in flames. He shivered. A sick feeling coiled in his stomach, and Midoriya shoved those thoughts away. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing did.

_Drip, drip, drip, drip._

A sound tickled at his ears. The clack-clack of boots against stone echoed against the rocks and into his cell, his cage. Midoriya perked up, peering into the shadows. Ever since the Guild threw him in here, some undetermined time prior, he had been alone. So alone, and so, so cold. Midoriya suppressed another shiver. He wondered, faintly, who that could be. His mother? Thoughts of Inko brought pricks of tears to his eyes. Oh, gods, what would she say about him now? She had to be furious. Furious at the Guild, furious at him. He could almost hear her scolding him. Midoriya dropped his head to his knees and sniffled.

_Drip, drip, drip, drip._

"Oi."

Midoriya jerked his head up, his sights landing on none other than Bakugou Katsuki. The light cut his face into shadows, obscuring his expression. But Midoriya could pick out the stiff lines of his shoulders, his tense stance. In his hands was a tray, with bread and a pitcher. Bakugou clutched the tray so tight, those usually steady hands trembled. The pitcher wavered in place, water sloshing in the silence that stretched between them. Midoriya blinked. "Kacchan?"

"Why." His voice was rough, harsh. There was an echo of something there. Uncertainty, fear. A guardedness that Midoriya rarely heard. He tilted his head, his brows furrowing on their own accord.

"Why what?"

Bakugou's stare burned. Midoriya flinched, his head thumping back against rock. He shrank under Bakugou's scrutiny, trying to hide behind his dusty, slime covered knees. Bakugou seemed to frown even deeper at the sight, and he uttered a low growl. "You know exactly what I mean, shithead."

_You know what I mean._

Unbidden images reared up into his mind's eye; the desperate cries of Bakugou as he fired volley after volley of fire to no avail, the fear burning like an inferno in his eyes that seared into Midoriya's soul. Horror rose in Midoriya's throat like bile, and he swallowed with a shudder. "I…" He trailed off, the words stuck in his mouth. Midoriya sucked in a breath. _Why? Why? Why?_ The question knocked around his head and roared in his ears. _Why?_ His heart pounded. Midoriya could almost feel that cutlass in his hands again. He stared at them, turning his palms upward and gazing at his scratches and calluses. _Why?_ Midoriya bit his lip. The answer was there, in his heart.

He leveled his stare at the shadows dancing in the corner in his cage and forced himself to speak. "I couldn't just sit there and watch you die." His voice, though quiet, echoed with an almost foreign certainty in the small space. Midoriya's gaze jumped back to Bakugou, whose expression was unreadable. But Midoriya found his previous anxiety had drained away. He raised his chin, glaring back with defiance. Bakugou's lips twisted into a deeper frown and his eyes flashed. In a fluid movement, Bakugou grabbed the pitcher and tossed the water into one of the stone bowls inside Midoriya's cage. Half the water sloshed out and slapped onto the dirt, muddying the ground. The bread loaf hit the dust a moment later, skidding to a halt by Midoriya's boot.

"You _shamed_ me," Bakugou said, his voice hoarse. "The whole fucking point of the Trails was do or die, you idiot. Fuck you. Fuck you and your stupid sympathy." Pops rang out in the hall, bursts of light snapping from Bakugou's palms. He threw the tray onto the ground, its clattering making Midoriya flinch. He peered up at his friend with wide eyes, his heart sinking at the snarl curving on Bakugou's lips. "I don't need it," he muttered, before turning heel and stomping away, back into the darkness. Midoriya gazed into the empty space, alone once more.

_Drip, drip, drip, drip._

**_~#~#~#~_**

Midoriya was asleep when they returned for him. He awoke to rough hands wrenching his arms together. A gasp burst from his lips unbidden, but it didn't seem to deter his captors. Midoriya could only blink as rope was wound quick and tight around his wrists. Already, it chafed at his skin, and he grit his teeth. It wasn't like he could complain, after all. The knot was tight, solid, and Midoriya's fingers tingled. That probably wasn't a good thing. His thoughts scattered as he was wrenched to his feet and half dragged, half led out of the cage.

"Where are we going?" Midoriya asked. His voice was hoarse, rough from lack of use, and it echoed with a hint of panic in the small corridor. He got no answer, of course. Not that he expected one. Still, his nerves lit his blood aflame, and Midoriya was almost glad the two Guildsmen were holding him up. He'd probably not be able to walk properly otherwise. He snuck glances at his guards. Their expressions were like granite; smooth and impenetrable. Both were unfamiliar to Midoriya; just nameless faces, here to quite literally drag him to his fate.

The corridors they dragged him down were endless. They twisted and turned and diverged more times than Midoriya could count. It didn't help that the worn, slime covered stone looked the same in every direction. He caught glimpses of more iron bars amid the torchlight, but there wasn't much time to parse out any details. Midoriya found himself straining to peer over one of the Guildsman's broad shoulders, his gaze skirting to one of the many cages they passed. Most seemed empty, but every now and again he could hear soft rustles, or hear a low growl. Once he even saw a pair of glowing eyes glaring at him as they passed.

A shiver ran down his spine, and Midoriya wasn't sure if it was because of the chill that had settled deep in his bones, or the unearthly glow of those eyes in the dark. He tried not to think about it too much.

At some point, the corridor widened, and the torches lining the walls grew larger. Less shadows crowded the crevices, and Midoriya didn't see any more cages. The ground under his feet seemed to be tilting upward at a greater angle, too. Their footsteps echoed louder and louder, matching the thudding of his heart.

_Thump, thump. Thump, thump._

He hardly registered when more Guildsman joined them, flanking both before and behind them. Once he was aware of their presence, though, anxiety spiked once more in Midoriya's blood. They were men, broad and strong, with long, thick spears held tightly in their hands. The speartips looked deadly in the flickering torchlight; a promise of death, a promise of pain. He sucked in a breath. What were they going to do to him? Midoriya bit his lip so hard he tasted blood. The sting took the edge off the fear clawing at his insides, even if for just a brief moment. But the moment faded, and Midoriya felt as though he was drowning, drowning, drowning.

Would they kill him? Throw him into the arena and let some eldritch horror tear him to shreds? The thought sent more tremors through him. His earlier bravado with Bakugou had vanished, tucked away somewhere in the shadows. He still didn't regret his actions, but. Midoriya swiped his lip with his tongue, sweeping away the blood oozing there. He didn't regret saving Bakugou, but he was still terrified of what was to come.

There was one time, when Midoriya was a young child, not long after his father left, when one of the Guild enlistees had smuggled a weapon into the Trials. He hardly remembered the match itself. He'd been so young at the time, and many of the fights blurred together. What the weapon was didn't really matter, anyway. A knife, a sword, it didn't make a difference. It was what happened_ after_ that Midoriya remembered. The Guild held a council, a meeting for the entire clan. Inko hadn't let him go for some reason or another. "No, Izuku," she had said. "It'll be late, you'll have an early day the next morning."

Oh, right. It was the first day working for Inui. Midoriya remembered pouting, but letting it go. Until of course Bakugou started teasing him about it.

"You're such a mommy's boy," he jeered. "You listen to everything the hag says?_ Lame._"

Midoriya frowned. "She's not a hag," he said, ignoring Bakugou's glare, "she's my mom! Besides, she said I can't go."

Bakugou had scoffed. "Who cares what she said. My old hag can't ever tell me what to do." He held up his palm, letting his flame pop in the quiet of the afternoon. "If you want to go, just _go_, Deku."

He sucked in a breath, shuddering. Bakugou's words had gotten into his head, and Midoriya had snuck out. He hid, out of view, and watched as the Guild unceremoniously chopped off the former enlistee's hand. Midoriya could still hear his screams, sometimes.

Of course, no one, as far as he was aware, had interfered with the Trials quite like he had.

Finally, they reached light. Midoriya blinked, swivelling his head around. Thousands of pairs of eyes stared back, their glares uniting into a sweltering wave of anger and hate. Midoriya's chest burned. They were in the arena, surrounded by their entire clan. And the clan was angry. Hateful jeers and shouts bombarded his ears, and things flew from the stands and scattered in the dirt. Shoes and fruit rinds and things singed beyond recognition. Midoriya ducked his head, suddenly grateful for the enforced entourage.

_"Disgraceful!"_

_"Worthless kid!"_

_"Flameless scumbag!"_

"Izuku!"

The one familiar voice out of hundreds caught his attention, and Midoriya's head snapped up. He found his mother, near the bottom of the stands, her expression desperate and teary. His old sheep master, Inui, had an arm wound around her middle, presumably anchoring her in place and keeping her from bolting down into the arena. Midoriya sucked in a breath, his eyes burning and his chest tight. "Mom," he whispered. Despair gripped him with a chokehold, not letting go even as the Guildsmen dragged him along, forcing Midoriya to break his gaze away.

They led him to the middle of the stadium, where a spectacle awaited him. There, in the center, sat a raging inferno, smoke curling as it wafted towards the ceiling. Around the fire was a semicircle of the Guild's elite; members with fur trimmed capes and beads so thick they were like colorful chestplates. Each one regarded him with a stony stare, their ceremonial spears gleaming in the firelight. His gaze jumped from face to face, settling on the terrifying and imposing glare of Captain Bakugou herself. A golden halo wreathed her pale hair, shadows providing striking contrast with her smoldering, flame colored eyes. She snarled down at him with a hate so penchant, Midoriya could feel it settled on his shoulders and weighing down on him. He gulped.

Captain Bakugou raised her staff, and the arena grew quiet. "People of Kasai," she said, "we come here today for an unfortunate circumstance." The Captain paused, her expression solemn. But here, up close, Midoriya could see the twitch of her lips, the white of her knuckles as she clenched her spear. He could see the way her eyes darkened with hate when her gaze slid back to him, and he was afraid. Captain Bakugou sighed, dramatic, before pressing on. "Our sacred Trials were..._interrupted_ yesterday. This rite is a sacred rite of passage, one that the enlistees embark upon with the full understanding of the implications." Her words hung in the air. The entire stadium seemed to hold its breath, holding onto everything the Captain said. Her stare, volatile and burning, cut into him. Midoriya trembled under its weight.

"Did Bakugou Katsuki ask for your interruption?" she asked, her voice dropping like boulders in his ears. Midoriya sucked in a shaky breath and shook his head.

"No."

"Do you acknowledge that your actions were a direct insult to our ancestors and the Guild?"

Shame burned at his cheeks. Midoriya ducked his head. "Yes."

"Then do you plead as guilty?"

Something struck a chord in Midoriya, then. It was as though the Captain's words had evaporated his anxiety and shame, unearthing a strangely familiar, burning sensation. The flickering light and shadows tickled at his vision, revealing snippets of memory. Midoriya stared into the flame, breathless, and there he found the white, hot terror that shone in Bakugou's eyes that fateful day. He straightened, jaw clenching. Guilty? Midoriya met the Captain's gaze. "I do," he said, his voice soft but certain. Those deadly eyes narrowed, hate simmering. But Midoriya couldn't bring himself to be afraid anymore. What he'd told Bakugou down beneath the arena was true; he didn't regret what he'd done.

"Midoriya Izuku, by the authority of myself and those of the Guild, I hereby exile you from the clan of Kasai."

In a beat, everything imploded. The crowd, the clan, was screaming. For blood, for joy, for anger, Midoriya knew not. He thought, somewhere, he could hear his mother shrieking his name. Then, the Guildsmen holding onto him dragged him forward, throwing him down at the feet of the Captain. A wheeze squeezed out of his lungs on impact. His vision grew blurry, and Midoriya tried to focus on breathing. Something heavy and rough pressed against his shoulders, forcing him lower into the dirt. The pressure made him cry out, and on instinct he squirmed. Immediately, the pressure grew painful, burning at his joints and radiating down his arms. He forced himself to still. Midoriya tried to turn his head, to throw his gaze over his shoulder. Guildsmen hovered in his view, tall and imposing, and through a sliver of light he could make out the blurry image of Captain Bakugou looming over him. Someone passed her something. Then shadows cut across her features, and Midoriya pressed his cheek back into the cool dirt. He flinched when nails scraped across his neck. There was a sharp tug at his beads, jerking his head up and making him choke. Tears stung at his eyes, and Midoriya could hear the snap ringing in his ears. Beads scattered the dirt, his tooth clattering in the dust right beside his face. Midoriya's breath caught in his throat, and he slowly shifted his bound hands forward to grasp it. He heard a snort close to his ear. "Good riddance," the Captain muttered.

A loose tear trailed down his cheek.

Midoriya only had time to take a single breath before a white hot pain was burning beneath his right shoulder blade. He wreathed in the dirt, tears spilling from his eyes as he screamed and screamed and screamed.

The Guildsmen, his guards, had to hold him up after. Everything was blurry, and the area under his shoulder throbbed. It felt as though he'd taken a torch and jabbed it into his skin. Midoriya bit his lip, holding back a sob. He clutched the tooth in his hands like a lifeline, the pain from the sharp edges a slight distraction. It grounded him, letting Midoriya feel through the pulsing pain of his shoulder. The dirt under his feet, the rough hands holding him upright, the flickering torchlight. It was all there, reminders that he was corporeal and real and that this was actually happening.

He was led into a short tunnel. It was little more than a shute, presumably the area enlistees were led into the arena. Here, the ground changed from dirt to stone and sloped upwards. Only perhaps fifty paces, and the slope vanished. The next series of corridors was a series of twists and turns. Right, left, right again, and Midoriya was hauled into the grand foyer of the arena, where the clan awaited him.

Faces. So many faces. It was different, in the arena, while he awaited his judgement. There, Midoriya was somewhat removed from them. From the faces that he knew. Neighbors, friends, allies, acquaintances. They were all there, looming over him, shadows of judgement slashing across their features. Here, it was different; in the arena, they yelled and screamed and called for his blood. Here, they stared, silent and judging. They parted like a wave, letting his entourage drag him past, staring and staring and staring. Midoriya recognized most of them. Awase, cloaked in red, a spear fixed in his hands. Takeyama, his neighbor, her blonde locks glowing orange in the torchlight. Utsushimi, honeyed curls obscuring her features as she murmured to the boy beside her.

Bakugou. Some part of Midoriya knew he was here. A tremor lit down his spine as their gazes met, and he stumbled under the weight of the hate that resided there. It burned, oh did it burn. Midoriya sucked in a breath, and another, but he felt as though he was choking on the smoke of Bakugou's hostility. And yet… Despite the hate rolling off Bakugou in waves, distorting everything, Midoriya could tell something was off. His shoulders were drawn up and tense, and he flinched back from Utsushimi when she leaned too close. His eyes were red and bloodshot, and despite the shadows mottling his features, Midoriya thought he could still make out dark circles under Bakugou's eyes. His brows furrowed, but Midoriya was given no time to decipher this information, as he was forced onwards.

The next face he saw, was that of his mother's. Inko lurched forward, her eyes soft and teary. Her lips moved, murmuring his name, and Midoriya felt her fingers graze his arm. He twisted, tried to reach out, but the Guildsmens' grip was firm and they dragged him past with little ceremony.

Midoriya blinked away the tears. He had to hope she'd be alright without him. He managed to toss a glance over his shoulder, catching the barest glimpse of her mossy colored hair. He thought he saw Inui beside her, and his shoulders slumped, relief scattering his fears. If only he could thank his former master…

A cloaked figure loomed forth from the sea of faces. Midoriya could see the splash of ice-blue eyes leering over him and he shuddered. It was that stranger! But, who were they? He gawked at the strange man, shivering at the grim smile he received in return. That was the last thing Midoriya saw before he was flung outside.

_**~#~#~#~**_

Twigs snapped underfoot as Midoriya fled. He didn't really know where he was going, but he supposed that didn't matter. Nothing did, really. A small part of him wanted to just sit down and give up. Just find a log and rest 'til morning. But the rest of him, the parts of him that refused to just keel over and die, screamed and resisted such thoughts. So run, he did.

_"You have until sunrise to be out of our territory." Captain Bakugou stared down at him, a menacing grin curling at her lips. "If you stay, you will be considered a trespasser and a threat, and the Guild is authorized to eliminate threats on sight."_

His breath came in ragged gasps. It hurt to breath. The cool night air burned at his lungs and throat, and his heaving breaths roared in his ears. He cast a glance upwards, towards the canopy, catching the barest hints of starlight winking through the leaves. The trees blocked out most of the moonlight, making it hard to see anything. Midoriya stumbled, his foot catching on a root and sending him sprawling. His bound hands flailed, attempting to catch himself, but he landed hard. He wheezed, tears pricking at his eyes. Ow. Midoriya laid there and caught his breath. Just a moment, and he'd get back up. Just a moment, and he'd keep going.

How much territory did their clan own? Midoriya didn't know. He'd lived his whole life in these mountains; he'd never left, not even once. There hadn't been a reason to. Until now. Midoriya shifted his bound arms under himself and pushed up onto his knees with a wince. The rope rubbed his wrists and brought a hiss from his lips. This sucked, so much. Midoriya clung to the tooth still held in his grasp, and struggled to his feet. He was lost in an unfamiliar sect of woods, forced to run from his clan or be killed. A rueful laugh spilled forth from his throat. He'd once wished for adventure, for something more. Perhaps this was the universe's way of giving that to him. That, or this was all some cruel, cruel joke.

He shuffled onwards.

Would the sheep miss him? Midoriya stumbled at the sudden thought. The sheep were his whole life. He'd spent countless hours with them, caring for them. Raising lambs from wee babes up into proud dams and rams. Shearing wool, cleaning and trimming hooves, naming and even singing to them up in the high reaches of the mountains. Midoriya could recognize every sheep by sight alone. What would they think, when he didn't show up tomorrow? Did they miss him already? Or had they already forgotten him?

That was a scary thought.

Something drew Midoriya out of his silent reverie. A sound. He jerked his head to the right, brows scrunching in confusion. There, in the darkness, a twig snapped. The sound echoed in the silence, deafening in his ears. It happened again, and Midoriya's heart was pounding. _Calm down,_ he thought. It had to be nothing. A deer, probably. Right? He clutched the tooth tighter in his hands, trying desperately not to think too hard as to where it came from. Midoriya heard another loud _snap_, and flinched. His body trembled and twitched, every instinct screaming at him to _run, run, run!_ He forced himself to breathe. In and out, in and out. One foot in front of the other. His pace picked up, shuffling at an increasingly faster pace. After every step he took, another rapid round of twigs snapped behind him. Terror crawled through his veins.

_It's just a deer,_ he told himself. _Nothing to worry about. Just keep moving._

And then, of course, he heard the growl. It rumbled low and loud, freezing him in place. Midoriya's mouth was suddenly dry, and he gulped. _It's nothing_, he told himself. _Remember? Just a deer. A deer that growls._ Midoriya sucked in a breath. Trembling like a leaf in the breeze, he slowly turned his head to peer into the night. To reassure himself that he was going crazy, or that it really was a deer.

His heart nearly stopped in his chest.

There, peering back at him, were two glowing, unfocused eyes. Midoriya could only just make out the outline of the beast; massive and hulking, lurking there beneath the trees. From the glow of its own eyes, he could see the gleam of its razor sharp teeth as the thing snarled at him. Midoriya cowered at the sight, eyes wide.

_Holy fuck. Holy fuck, what is that thing?!_

There was a beat. Midoriya gazed into its glowing eyes, heart hammering in his chest. He felt his legs trembling beneath him, threatening to give out under the weight of his terror. And then the beast lunged. Midoriya bolted. He could hear its jaws clack shut just inches from the nape of his neck. A scream tore from his throat, and he cradled his prized tooth to his chest as he ran and ran and ran. Branches whipped at his face and neck and chest. It was as though the forest itself was reaching out to him, trying to grasp him, hold him down. Thorns tugged at his pants, roots caught on his boots and made him stumble.

Every glance over his shoulder gave Midoriya a new and terrifying glimpse at what it was that chased him down. Dark skin that seemed to glow in the limited moonlight. Broad, impossibly muscled shoulders. Glowing, iridescent eyes that were disturbingly vacant. Void of any emotion. Goosebumps broke out on Midoriya's skin. Another glance, another image to fill the gaps. Gleaming, sharp teeth, with drool dripping from them. The ground shook with every step the thing took, nearly throwing Midoriya off balance.

This was no deer. Nor wolf. Whatever this thing was, it was nothing like he'd ever witnessed before.

Midoriya tucked his arms in, clinging to the tooth like a lifeline. Tears streamed down his face and his breath came in ragged gasps. It was like he was back in the arena, the sludge being breathing down his neck. Only this time, he only had glimpses of his opponent in the dark. And they weren't in a controlled environment. They were in the forest, far from his home, and Midoriya was hopelessly lost.

He was going to die.

_Midoriya rolled in the meadow, laughter bubbling from his lips. He could hear his mother's gentle chuckle, and he sat upright to take in her affectionate gaze. "Oh, Izuku," she said, "you're so silly."_

_Midoriya grinned. "Come on, mom, roll with me!"_

_Inko shook her head, the smile not leaving her lips. "I need to finish folding the laundry. And you'll need a bath, after this."_

_He pouted. "Aww, mom! But the grass is so-o-o clean!"_

_"I'm sure it is, Izuku," she said with another laugh. "But you'll be even cleaner after a bath."_

_Midoriya sighed, stretching out on his back. He maintained his pout as he gazed up at the clouds. The grass smelled nice and felt soft as he rolled in it. It was a pleasant feeling, and he was never dirty afterwards. Why couldn't his mom see that? The warm summer breeze tickled his cheeks and ruffled his hair, taking with it his frustrations. It was too nice out to worry about later. A grin stretched on his lips once more._

_A little more romping around couldn't hurt, right?_

Another snarl brought Midoriya back to the present.

_I'm sorry, mom,_ he thought. Then, Midoriya's shoulder connected with the rough bark of a tree, and he was spinning. Roots caught his boot, and he lost his footing. Midoriya yelped. The forest thundered around him, and he could hear the distinct clack of jaws snapping shut, a sickly sweet breeze tickling his face. And then he was falling. Midoriya had the time to wonder if this thrilling sensation of weightlessness was what birds felt when they took to the skies, before he slammed into the earth. The force sent him rolling, and Midoriya screamed. He scrambled for purchase, bound hands scrabbling with anything they connected to; dirt, twigs, roots, rocks, it didn't matter. But gravity seemed to have other ideas. Midoriya rolled and rolled, his body bouncing painfully with the hard earth under him. At one point, he hit a rock, that sent him flying. Hitting the ground again had the wind slammed from his lungs, and Midoriya wheezed. He bounced harder, the force sending his body into a new velocity. He was aware of the taste of dirt and blood on his tongue and the scent of molding leaves clogging his nose. Somewhere, Midoriya realized he couldn't hear the monster growling anymore. Then, he slammed into something hard, and everything went dark.

* * *

**Update! Apologies for the sad... XD Anyways, here it is! Next chapter will have a few new faces... ;3**

**-Kat**


	5. Five

_"...hear that?"_

_"'Chako, wait, what-?"_

_"Hello?"_

_"Ochako!"_

_"Someone's down here, I don't-"_

_"Get back here, it's not safe! Ochako?"_

_"...Oh my gods…Hadou-san!"_

_"What, are you okay? Hang on, I'm coming!"_

_"S'gonna be okay...just hang in there…"_

_"Gods, is that…?"_

_"Hurry, we have to help him!"_

**_~#~#~#~_**

Pain was the first thing he was aware of. Midoriya tried to pry his eyes open, but the little light he let in burned, stabbing at his retinas and shoving stakes of pain through his temples. He whimpered, squeezing them shut again. He tried to move his arm, to throw it over his eyes, but gods, his limbs were heavy. And oh, they _hurt._ Just twitching his fingers sent sharp pain vibrating through his body, underneath his skin. Why did everything hurt so much? He managed another low groan.

A sound startled him; a low rustle, there, to his right. Something warm and soft brushed against his forehead, the touch gentle and tender. "Shh," a voice murmured, "it's alright. You're safe now."

Midoriya felt stiff, confusion swirling through him like a storm. "M-mom?" he croaked.

There was silence. And then; "Rest, now." Someone's fingers combed softly through his hair, and Midoriya felt himself relaxing. A sigh breezed past his lips. Resting was a good idea. He _was_ rather sleepy, now. He drifted off to the soft hums of someone closeby, the tune unfamiliar but calming.

_**~#~#~#~**_

_Fire rained down from the sky. The mountains echoed with the screams from the hawk, its dying cries scorched into Midoriya's memory. Tears stung at his eyes. He stumbled back, hands clasped over his mouth and nose, trying desperately to rid his lungs of the scent of burnt feathers._

_There, amidst the ashes and sparks, stood Bakugou, his face twisted in one of sickening glee. His new flame popped and sparked from his palms, and he laughed and laughed. "Take that, you stupid bird!" he shrieked. Midoriya could only stare on, horrified._

_He...he just killed it. Just like that. One minute, the hawk was soaring overhead, a symbol of glory and power, and the next, it was burning, burning, burning._

_The other kids didn't seem bothered by what he'd done, laughing alongside Bakugou. Midoriya couldn't bear to watch any longer; he stumbled farther and father back, before turning tail and running back into the safety of the trees. Branches and twigs whipped at his face and chest, but Midoriya didn't care. He just wanted to get _away_. Away from the soot and ash and scorched feathers. In his haste, his foot caught a gnarled root, sending him flying into the dirt. Midoriya landed hard, stars dancing in his vision. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, and for a moment, Midoriya nearly panicked, unable to breath right. He wheezed a bit before the strange sensation faded, and he could pull himself up onto his hands and knees. "Ow," he whimpered. His palms stung and his smock was covered in leaves and dirt. Midoriya brushed the leaves away and stood, only for his leg to give out, and he collapsed into a heap with a cry._

_His ankle hurt._

_Midoriya sniffed and swiped at his cheeks. He carefully hauled up onto his hands and knees and crawled to the nearest tree, using the moss covered trunk as support so he could pull himself up onto his feet. Gently, he tried putting a little bit of pressure on his sore ankle. Spikes of pain lanced up and down his leg, and he leaned back into the trunk with a whimper. Owie. Midoriya bit his lip. He couldn't walk like this… His gaze darted to the side, catching onto a stick poking out of a shrub._

_It would have to do._

_A moment of crawling and fighting with a shrub, and Midoriya grasped his prize. He scooted back to the tree to get back to his feet, only using the stick like a crutch. It took what felt like hours to hobble through the woods. Every noise had Midoriya starting with fear; he nearly fell over a few times._

_Finally, finally, he found the village. Some nice ladies folding laundry at the outskirts saw him, rushing to his side upon recognizing his meager beads. They sat him down at the stoop of their hut, and someone fetched his mother. It wasn't until he saw the familiar flash of green hair twisted into an updo through the trees that Midoriya's lip started to quiver._

_"Izuku?" Inko pulled him into her arms, eyes wide with worry. "What happened, love?"_

_Midoriya burst into tears, clutching at the soft suede of her dress. Inko held him tighter, cooing in his ear. "Oh, sweetheart, it's okay. It's okay, I'm here." She brushed at his bangs, her touch as gentle as her voice._

_"I'm here. I'm here."_

**_~#~#~#~_**

Midoriya jolted awake. His vision filled with blurry lines of tan and brown; jagged, like teeth. He blinked once, twice, and everything cleared. Stalactites. They hung down, glistening with water and moss. He was in a cave. Somehow, he wasn't surprised upon that realization. He stared up at the innumerable stalactites, trying to tease out why this could be. A fleeting thought told Midoriya he should probably be panicking right about now. After all, what was the last thing he remembered? It certainly wasn't this. Midoriya furrowed his brows and pursed his lips. The last memories he had surfaced to the forefront of his mind; gleaming teeth and glowing eyes and growls so loud they made his bones tremble. He sucked in a breath and suppressed a shiver.

Yeah, he definitely didn't remember crawling into a cave. So how…?

A noise startled him. Midoriya turned his head, his gaze soaking up more of his surroundings. About a stone's toss away sat a crackling fire, its warm light bathing the stony walls in a soft orange glow. Beside the fire sat two packs, some blankets, and the hunched shape of a person. Midoriya stiffened. He watched with wide eyes as his mystery companion shuffled in place. They bent over the flames, humming to themself. The sharp shadows obscured most of their features; Midoriya could only make out the baggy outlines of their clothed shoulders, and the worn soles of their boots. Their soft humming buzzed in his ears. It was oddly familiar, and Midoriya found himself relaxing.

The person stood, then, sending a glance over their shoulder. Their gazes met, and Midoriya was breathless. Bright, ochre eyes, like sun-warmed earth peered at him. Realization ignited in them, and he was rewarded with the brightest smile he'd ever seen. "Oh! You're awake!" Two short strides, and they, or she, as he now realized, was at his side, a hand brushing at his bangs. "How do you feel?" she asked. Midoriya blinked up at her, his words stuck in his throat. She was...beautiful. Short, glossy, auburn hair framed her rounded face, and her cheeks were warm and rosy. She was dressed strangely, with tan, baggy cloth draped over her frame. There was a leather belt fashioned across her middle, showing off a narrow waist. Her smile faltered, and she tilted her head to the side. "Hello?"

Oh. Right. He gulped, mouth dry. "I-I'm, I'm f-fine."

The girl looked at him for a moment more, considering. She dipped her head in a nod and returned to the fire. Midoriya watched as she rummaged for something. The girl produced a wine skin from her pack with a soft, "Aha!", and returned to his side. She offered it to him with a smile. "Drink."

Midoriya looked from her to the wineskin. Was it safe? He immediately felt silly. If this girl had wanted to kill him, he'd probably already be dead. Midoriya leaned his head forward and let her press the wineskin against his lips. Cool water trickled down his throat, bringing with it relief. He drank greedily, water dribbling down his chin. Oh, gods, this was amazing. Midoriya hadn't realized how thirsty he was until the cool water touched his tongue. How long had he been out? Days? Weeks? He shoved those thoughts aside for later, focusing instead on drinking his fill. Regardless of the answer, he felt as though sand had been poured down his throat, and the water was a relief.

A moan tore from him, making him jolt. Embarrassment burned inside him, igniting his cheeks aflame. Midoriya was suddenly very aware of the girl sitting on his cot, so close he could feel her body heat against his thigh. He jerked back with an undignified squeak. Of course, water sloshed from the wineskin down onto his chest, soaking the woolen blanket draped over him. The girl jerked the wineskin back, and tied it off, apologizing profusely. "Oh, gosh, I'm sorry! Here, let me get that!" She grabbed the edge of her tunic, using it to mop at the wet spot on the blanket. "Geeze, we made a mess, didn't we?" She laughed, awkward, her focus shifting to his chin. "Here, let me…" She trailed off, raising her tunic to dab at his chin. Midoriya's already warm face heated up even more, and his breath hitched.

Oh. His gaze darted up to the girl's, watching in fascination at how her brows furrowed in concentration, her shimmering gaze focused on her actions. He was entranced. Caught in the crease of her brow, the way her hair fell from her shoulders, the hue igniting in the firelight, Midoriya wondered briefly if perhaps this was a dream. Whoever this kind girl was, she was...enchanting. Her gaze flickered to his, and Midoriya was lost in its warm glow.

"Hey, I'm back!"

The girl sprang back like she'd been burned. Midoriya gawked at the space where she'd been, blinking. He felt a bit colder than he had before, and he stifled a shiver, shifting his focus to the source of the interruption. Sweeping around a bend hidden by stalagmites as thick as trees, was a woman unlike any Midoriya had seen before. She moved swift and purposeful, like a gale of wind, tossing her cloak onto one of the packs beside the fire, her long, strangely colored hair swishing behind her. Her gaze landed on his, and she stopped in place, her mouth dropping open and surprise slashing across her features like a bolt of lightning. "Oh! You're awake!"

Midoriya didn't even have time to blink before she was upon him. Slender fingers clasped his jaw, jerking his head this way and that as a pair of shimmering blue eyes peered down at him. "How do you feel? Does anything hurt? You've been out for days, you know, it took a lot of work to patch you up. I don't think I've seen anyone quite as beat up as you, and I work with the king's knights; they're quite a mess, I'll have you know. Always whacking each other with their wooden swords for practice. You've got more bruises than the lot of them combined. And don't even get me _started_ on that weird burn on your shoulder-does that hurt, by the way? I tried to find more aloe but that plant doesn't really grow around here, sorry about that, ooh, your eyes are quite green! I didn't notice that before. Of course, you've been unconscious, so it's not like I'd have noticed but still, they're very pretty. I had a friend with green eyes once-"

"Hadou-san! You're overwhelming him!"

The woman paused her rant to pout, before pulling back. "All right, all right." She held up her hands in defeat, directing her pout to their companion. "You can't blame me for being excited; he's been out for like, three days."

Midoriya blanched. "Three days?"

A grimace flickered across the girl's features, before she shook herself and sighed. "Yeah...you were lucky we found you, I think. Seems like you've been through it, a bit." She smiled, a hint of sadness glinting in her soft gaze, before she gasped. "Oh! We haven't introduced ourselves! I'm Uraraka Ochako, and this," she paused, turning to the woman beside her, "is Hadou-san, my mentor."

Hadou waved her hand, a flush staining her cheeks. "Oh, stop, you're embarrassing me." She looked to Midoriya then, smiling ruefully. "I always tell her to drop the honorifics, they make me feel so _old_. Just call me Nejire!"

Dazed, Midoriya nodded. "N-nice to meet you," he stammered. His mind was a fog, and Midoriya felt the telltale signs of a headache thumping at his temples. Ugh. He bit his lip, stifling a sniffle. Now was definitely not the time to start getting teary eyed. Still, an almost overwhelming wave of homesickness swelled within him, and Midoriya stubbornly fixed his stare on the stalactites jutting out of the ceiling. Uraraka seemed to notice his discomfort, and took pity on him. She touched him lightly on the shoulder, sparing a soft smile.

"Get some rest."

Midoriya blinked, warmth staining his cheeks. It was as though she'd placed a spell on him; her touch had evaporated the cloud of gloom looming overhead, replacing it with a fuzzy warmth in his chest. Midoriya nodded, murmuring a soft, "Thanks."

"Wait, wait," Hadou said, leaning back into his space, her odd, pale colored hair spilling from her shoulders and tickling his cheek. "What's your name, dear? We certainly can't keep calling you 'odd boy from the slope' after all."

His face burned at that. "Um," he started, then stopped. His name, his whole identity, was stuck at the tip of his tongue. _Midoriya Izuku, son of the great firebreather. Midoriya Izuku, the boy with no flame. Midoriya Izuku, the boy whose father abandoned him. Midoriya Izuku, the outcast, the exiled._

_"I don't need your pity." Bakugou's eyes flashed. "You shamed me."_

_You're pathetic. A nobody._

Midoriya managed a wobbly smile. "Call me Deku."

**_~#~#~#~_**

The following days were probably the strangest. Everything was layered in an unsettling _calm,_ quite the contrast to how the previous weeks had been. The most Midoriya had to do was sit on his makeshift cot and listen to Uraraka and Hadou bicker over the best ways to heal his fading injuries.

It was _strange_, to say the least.

Currently, the two were huddled over a miniature pot hanging precariously over the fire, stewing up something or another. From where Midoriya was sitting, he could see an old, open book balanced precariously in Uraraka's hands.

"We can't use borage, that makes no sense!"

Hadou snorted. "I didn't say to use borage, you goof."

"You're holding a pinch of it right now."

She looked at her hands and paused. "Oh. Whoops." Hadou turned, pulling a small pouch from her pack and dropping the borage leaves back into it. "What was it that recipe called for again?"

Uraraka sighed. "Marigold. You know, the fluffy orange flower?"

"I know what that looks like!"

Midoriya heard Uraraka mutter something under her breath, and he stifled a chortle in his palm. He was quickly learning that Uraraka and Hadou's relationship was a unique one. They were quite close it seemed, and though Uraraka definitely looked up to her mentor, if those shining looks were anything to go by, there was often a lot of bickering and teasing riddled in their interactions. It was a startling contrast to how Midoriya used to interact with Inui, his own former master. The grin slid right off his face, and his heart clenched.

Thoughts of the sheep master had Midoriya thinking of home. He wondered who was helping Inui with the sheep. Did they miss him? And what of the lambs? He hoped none had fallen to any predators. Like whatever beast was lurking around the mountain…

Images of glowing eyes and gleaming fangs reared to the forefront of his mind, and Midoriya jumped at a gentle touch on his arm.

"Deku?" Uraraka blinked at him, concern knit in her brow. "Everything okay? You sorta zoned out there…"

He nodded jerkily, shoving thoughts of his old home and mysterious monsters to the back of his mind. "Y-yeah, I'm fine."

Uraraka stared at him for a beat, before nodding. "Here," she said. "Drink this." She presented a small, steaming bowl to him, filled with a mystery liquid. It was viscousy and jiggled when jostled, and was bright orange. It smelled flowery, but with a punch that Midoriya couldn't quite grasp. He eyed it for a moment, before dragging his gaze back to Uraraka.

"Um...wh-what is this?"

"A healing potion!" she said cheerily, as she plopped onto his cot. "It should help get rid of the rest of your aches and bruises. Hopefully it'll heal that awful burn of yours, too." Her voice grew quiet as she said the last part, a look Midoriya couldn't decipher shadowing her expression. Midoriya looked back to the potion and chewed his lip, feeling rather bashful all of a sudden. It was...nice, to have someone care for him. With a shrug, Midoriya downed the potion, screwing up his face as he forced it down. It was an...odd taste, that made his tongue and throat tingle.

"I-is it supposed to tingle?" he asked quietly. Uraraka shrugged, looking thoughtful.

"I think so." She tilted her head, giving him a once over. "If you start to feel dizzy, let me know." Uraraka rose then, muttering under her breath about toadstools and marigolds and things Midoriya wasn't certain he wanted to understand. He stared down at the now empty bowl and sighed. Gently, Midoriya set it to the side and stared instead at his hands. They tingled and felt rather prickly, and he watched with widening eyes as the yellowed rope burns faded away completely, and the scabs from the cuts on his palms faded too, until all that was left were thin lines, like scars.

"Whoa," he breathed. Midoriya brought his hands closer to his face, examining them. He'd never seen anything like this before...it was as though time had somehow sped up right before his very eyes. He marvelled, open mouthed. What...what was this? Uraraka had called it a potion… He squinted, bringing his palms even closer. The thin lines were jagged and pale pink, and he found himself wondering how exactly they'd gotten there. What had he cut himself on? His mind jumped back to his flight through the forest. Midoriya's breath caught in his throat. He could practically hear the beast growling, its jaws snapping shut behind him, the sensation of his father's tooth cutting at his palms… He gasped. The tooth! Midoriya scrambled off the cot, throwing aside the woolen blanket. His heart thumped in his chest, panic rising like smoke. Oh, gods, where could it be?

"Deku? What's wrong?"

He spared a glance over his shoulder, a concerned Uraraka and confused Hadou both stared owlishly back. "My tooth," he said, voice wavering. "A-a fafnir tooth; my father gave it to me...I can't find it!" He pulled up the cushion, staring forlornly at the rock below. It wasn't there. Midoriya sank to the ground, clutching his head in his hands. Oh, gods, he must've dropped it in the woods. Who knew where it could be, now? Dizzy with despair, Midoriya almost didn't hear footsteps approach. There was a gentle touch on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Uraraka said, her voice soft. "We can look for it, if you want."

Midoriya slowly lifted his head. He was met with a look of complete sincerity and warmth, that his heart squeezed in his chest. His face heated up again, and he looked away, overwhelmed. Not too many people had showed such kindness to him in quite some time. It was...a lot to take in. "Tha-thanks," he murmured. Uraraka gave his shoulder a squeeze.

"Of course. We can look for it together, if you're up for it."

That brought a jolt from him. "O-oh, really?" His voice came out as a squeak. Midoriya snuck a peak up at Uraraka, who was nodding enthusiastically.

"Yeah! That way you can stretch your legs a bit, and maybe we'll find your fafnir tooth!"

The idea was tempting. Midoriya hadn't been awake for long, only a few days, but he was already feeling a little stir crazy. Hadou was especially insistent on having him take it easy, going on about something about stiff muscles and healing potions. It was a jumbled mess; Hadou, he had learned, often went off on tangents. Midoriya smiled. "Yeah, okay."

Uraraka offered him a hand, which he took gratefully. He yelped as she hauled him to his feet with a single tug; despite her short stature, Uraraka was surprisingly strong. Her palms were warm and soft, and Midoriya flushed upon realizing that their hands were clasped. _Oh. Oh gods._ He dropped her hand, looking anywhere but her. She didn't seem to notice, turning instead to Hadou. "You coming too?"

Hadou didn't spare them a glance, too focused on whatever it was that she was doing. Midoriya squinted as he peered down at the array of things around her; plants and roots and leaves and flowers of all sorts, in various piles. She was scribbling on some parchment too, only pausing to wave offhandedly over her shoulder. "Nah, you kids have fun. But not too much fun. And be back before sundown, I'm not about to trek through this forest looking for you two. Or using a seeker spell. Nope, not wasting energy for that. Besides I have to take stock of what we picked up for the shop and all that."

_But not too much fun._ Midoriya bit his lip and tried not to think about what Hadou meant by that. The older girl had a tendency to speak without thinking, often resulting in a lot of word vomit. Sometimes Midoriya felt as though his head was spinning after he talked to her. Which meant she probably, definitely didn't mean it like that. Probably.

There was a hum, and he looked over to see Uraraka nodding. He thought perhaps her cheeks were a bit pinker than normal, but he shoved the thought away immediately. No, he was just imagining things. That was definitely her normal blush on her face. "Okay, cool," Uraraka said. "If I see any more herbs while we're out, I'll pick some up. What did you say we needed more of again?"

Hadou glanced down at the parchment in her hands and frowned. "Horsetail. We're pretty short on that stuff. Oh, and jasmine, if you can find it."

Uraraka nodded again, reaching for her cloak. She tugged it over her head with a practiced ease and grace that Midoriya was learning to associate with her. The cloak, like the rest of her outfit, was unusual. It was short, only reaching down to her fingertips, and fastened at the nape of her neck. Its color was deep thanks to the firelight; a magenta, Uraraka had called it. The hood on it was quirky and came to a point, but currently she wore it down. She cast a glance over her shoulder, beaming that bright smile at him and making him feel warm all over. "Coming?" She asked. Uraraka then turned on her heel and strode past the fire, not waiting for an answer. Midoriya stumbled after her. The cave narrowed, thick stalagmites rearing up from the floor, some even touching the stalactites on the ceiling. Midoriya followed Uraraka up a slope and around a bend, firelight disappearing behind them and replaced with the glow of natural sunlight. He had to squint against it a bit, the brightness of the light burning his eyes a bit.

They paused at the lip of the cave so Uraraka could grab a staff that leaned in the shadows. The staff was a curious thing; aged, knobby wood that grew thicker towards the top. It curled around a strange crystalline orb, the color of Uraraka's cloak. The orb sparkled in the sunlight, and Midoriya couldn't help but stare. "What's that?" he asked, the words tumbling from his lips unbidden. Uraraka glanced at her staff, smiling ruefully. "Oh, it's nothing." She didn't elaborate, instead striding out into the woods and leaving Midoriya to wonder as he followed after her. He frowned but said nothing. No use in pressing the matter, if Uraraka didn't wish to speak on it.

The day was a nice one. A warm breeze slipped between the trees, tickling at his skin. Midoriya was glad for it too; with his vest and cloak gone, he had nothing to keep him warm. His gaze flit to Uraraka and her strange clothes, and he couldn't help but feel a bit jealous. Oh, what he would give to at least have his cloak right now. He missed the feel of the soft fabric on his skin, and how he could just hide in it. Loud chattering birdsong interrupted his train of thought, and Midoriya looked up. Overhead, birds flit from branch to branch, singing their feathery hearts out. A crooked smile fixed onto his lips. He always wondered what the birds sang about. Where they sharing pleasantries? Or perhaps yelling at each other? He wondered if they'd know where his tooth was, if he asked.

Perhaps they'd know what it was that chased him that night…

Despite the warmth, Midoriya shivered. He swivelled his head back and forth, fear prickling his mind as he peered into the shadows. Instinctively, he stepped closer to Uraraka, nearly running into her when she stopped. He squeaked, staggering back. Apologies crowded the tip of his tongue, stalling when he caught her expression. She stared ahead, usually bright eyes solemn. Midoriya followed her line of sight, settling his gaze on a tree just a stone's throw in front of them.

"That's where we found you," she said, quiet. "You were unconscious and bleeding a lot. I...I thought you might be dead, at first." Uraraka looked at him then, questions brimming in her eyes. "What happened?"

Midoriya stared ahead, at the tree. It was at the bottom of a steep incline that was riddled with shrubs and trees and sharp rocky outcrops. Did he really fall down that…? Midoriya frowned. He looked down at his hands, light scars still patterned on his palms. He thought of before, of his exile, of his clan. Did it matter if he told her? Midoriya's gaze flickered to Uraraka. Her expression shimmered with worry and warmth. Genuine warmth, the kind that had his heart stuttering in his chest. He looked away, face burning. "Maybe I dropped it up on the ridge," he murmured, gesturing at the top of the hill. Uraraka was frowning beside him, almost burning with worry, but he pushed onwards, striding out towards the tree. And as he walked, Midoriya shoved his past behind him with a force that made his knees tremble.

He breathed. Forcing a smile onto his lips, Midoriya cast a brave glance over his shoulder at Uraraka, whose stare had yet to leave him. "So you guys are out here looking for herbs?" It was a lame question, he knew, but it was the only thing he could think of to change the subject, to punt the focus away from him. Uraraka frowned, but she merely shrugged.

"Yeah, sorta. We run an apothecary shop in the city."

"Apothecary shop?"

"Yep," Uraraka chirped. "We make potions and things to help people out. Most of what we sell is medicines and healing potions, but we get the occasional order for, erm." She paused, her face screwing up in mild distaste. "_Interesting_ things."

Midoriya's mind immediately went to the healing potion she and Hadou had made for him earlier, and how quickly it had healed his injuries. That was, as far as he knew, not normal. He was aware of that when it happened, but with the missing tooth, it had nearly slipped his mind. Now though, deep in the thicket and left to think freely, it came roaring back. How exactly had that potion worked so well? Back at home, they had a healer; someone versed in treating injuries and sickness. But Midoriya never remembered drinks that healed his scars before his eyes. "Is it magic?" he blurted.

Uraraka laughed. The sound was bright and cheerful, and Midoriya felt his face flush. Uraraka leaned on her staff, wiping mirthful tears from her eyes. "Yes, of course it is. What else would it be?"

He shrugged, embarrassed. "I...I don't know." A thousand more questions burned on his tongue, but Midoriya shoved them down. They bounced around his mind though, making his head spin. He'd heard murmurs of things like learned magic, but to see it happen was...it was like a veil had been ripped down in his mind. Midoriya gazed at Uraraka with a sense of awe. How did she learn how to do that? Could anyone learn? Was it hard, to make a potions? How did one infuse magic into a potion? Was there enchantments? Did Uraraka have an elemental connection? How-

A light touch on his arm brought Midoriya crashing back to reality with a yelp. Uraraka was looking at him with something akin to bemusement, and she chuckled lightly. "You sure do zone out a lot, don't you?" she teased. Midoriya flushed, stammering an apology. Uraraka rolled her eyes, playfully punching at his arm. "Don't be. It's kind of endearing, actually." Her gaze grew soft as she spoke, and there was a warmth flooding Midoriya that had him stumbling over his own two feet. They stared at each other for a beat, and Uraraka seemed to realize what she'd said; her face grew a bit pink, and she turned away, shielding her face with a curtain of hair. Uraraka waved at the hillside then, stammering, "This is it, this is where we found you! We should start looking, yep!" She then stomped off to a nearby tree, her gaze firmly fixed on the ground.

Midoriya glanced about. Oh, gods, this was going to take ages. He tried not to think too hard about the probability of finding the artifact; the amount of scattered leaves and underbrush was definitely working against them here. Still, he felt a little better being outside and actually trying to find the tooth. He snuck a glance at Uraraka, who was sweeping at the leaves with her staff, muttering to herself as she scrutinized the forest floor. Besides, the company wasn't so bad.

He hummed to himself as he kicked at the leaves, feeling surprisingly light for the first time in awhile.

* * *

**And another update! At long last, we meet Ochako! XD Hopefully worth the wait! Thanks for the read. ;3**

**-Kat**


	6. Six

They didn't find the tooth. Midoriya and Uraraka searched until the light grew thin and the shadows long, and nothing came up but rocks, sticks, and the occasional startled animal. At one point, Midoriya found some churned up earth, right at the top of the incline; presumably where he'd tripped and fallen. There was a root yanked out of the ground, and what almost looked like massive gauge marks in the dirt.

Yet, no tooth.

The two trudged back side by side, Uraraka's strange staff giving off a pale pink glow and lighting their way through the twilight. They didn't speak; Midoriya's throat was clogged and his tongue a twisted mess. He couldn't have said anything if he tried. Uraraka stayed quiet too, as though sensing that idle chatter wouldn't help. The forest filled the silence between them with the songs of the night. A pair of barred owls called back and forth to each other, their common cries devolving into the wild raucous that always had chills running up Midoriya's spine. He could hear branches swaying in the breeze, the pitter patter of small paws against the leaf litter, and the occasional flit of a bird's wings in the night sky.

Amidst all the noise, Midoriya felt...lost, somehow. Like he was drifting, anchored to the ground only by the constantl presence of Uraraka by his side. Her arm brushed against his every so often, bringing his unraveling mind back to the present, to the woods, and the sounds, and the feeling of his boots scuffing against the earth. They made it back to the cave in what seemed like a blink of the eye. Uraraka paused at the entrance to leave her staff beside Hadou's, and Midoriya trundled on, feet slipping against the smooth earth beneath him. The glow of the fire softened the edges of the shadows and warmed his skin against the chill that had settled there. He passed by the lump that was Hadou and collapsed onto his makeshift cot.

Midoriya sighed. The loss of his prized tooth hurt. It was like the universe was twisting a knife in his gut, over and over again. He felt lost, like a lamb without its mother. He had nothing to call his own; no home, and no belongings aside from the pants and boots he wore. The fafnir tooth was the last thing, the last tie to his old life. Who was he, without it?

Uraraka appeared around the bend, slipping off her cloak and setting it in a heap beside the fire. She looked to him, then, the sadness in her gaze thick and muddy. "I'm sorry," she murmured. Midoriya shrugged. What was there to be sorry for? It wasn't her fault it was lost. That blame lay on him and him alone. He bit his lip, blinking at the sting in his eyes. There was a soft sigh, and Uraraka murmured a soft, "Goodnight," before settling down beside Hadou. Midoriya sat, staring into the fire for awhile longer before exhaustion got the better of him and he curled up and drifted off.

That night, he dreamed.

Midoriya dreamed of home. He dreamed of his father, his prized tooth. _"Izuku, this here is my lucky tooth."_ He could see his father's warm eyes. Blue, like the sky on a sunny day. Their edges crinkled with a smile that stained his lips, a smile Midoriya always found comfort in._ "This tooth has brought me great fortune; hopefully it can do the same for you."_

He clutched it to his chest, beaming happily. _"I'll always keep it with me! Just like you!"_

Those warm eyes grew stormy, the smile gone. "You lost it, didn't you?" he said, anger rolling like thunder in his voice. Midoriya blinked.

"What?"

"The tooth," his father said. "You lost it."

Midoriya looked down at his hands, and the tooth was gone. All he could see were the scars the tooth's serrated edges had cut into his palms, now angry and red and oozing blood. "No," he gasped. "No, wait, it can't be gone!" He looked up, quaking under his father's gaze. "I'm sorry!" The cry came out like a sob. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

But then his father was gone. Instead, his mother was there, tears streaming down her face. Midoriya blinked up at her, his face screwing up in confusion. "Mom?"

"Oh, Izuku," she murmured. She reached out, her fingers grazing his cheek, and then he was pushed away. Midoriya stumbled, quaking under the glares of his fellow clanmates.

"Mom?" he cried. But the clan pushed her further and further away, and he couldn't reach her. They stared as they had after his trial, solemn and judging. Midoriya tried to push through them, to get back to Inko, but no one budged. Midoriya screamed, launching himself at the crowd again and again, each time falling to the dirt and no closer to his mother. There was a shout behind him. Midoriya whirled around, eyes widening at the sight. Looming up over him was the sludge being, eyes wicked and unfocused as it grinned its manic grin.

"Deku!"

Bakugou's voice yanked his attention downwards. In the belly of the monster, the being, was him, trapped like the day of the Trial. Bakugou squirmed, desperate, his eyes wild and terrified. "Deku, you piece of shit! Get the hell out of here!"

Midoriya couldn't. His feet were frozen. He shook his head. "N-no! Kacchan, I'm not just gonna leave you!" There was a weight in his hands. Midoriya looked down, gasping. The cutlass was there, firm in his grasp. But it was larger, heavier, and on the blade was something…

Another scream. Midoriya looked up. Bakugou was writhing on the ground, light popping from his palms. Looming over him, over them both, was a beast, a monster. A monster with glowing eyes and gleaming teeth, drool dripping from its jaws. Midoriya trembled, but his grip on the cutlass was firm. He could hear Bakugou screaming his name. "Deku! Deku!"

_"Deku, wake up!"_

Midoriya bolted upright, sweat dripping off his brow. A scream tumbled from his lips and the blankets he slept with were bunched in his fists. The monster, it was going to kill him, kill them both-

"Deku, it's okay." Uraraka's warm gaze filled his line of sight, and Midoriya felt himself relax. She reached up to brush at his sweaty bangs, those ochre eyes shimmering. "It's okay," she repeated. Midoriya closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, breathing.

"Thanks," he murmured. Uraraka said nothing, instead sitting at the edge of his makeshift cot in silence, gently running her fingers through his hair as the fire crackled nearby.

**~#~#~#~**

"That should do it." Hadou straightened up, nodding to herself as she surveyed the packs. "Go ahead and take these out to the mouth of the cave, would ya', Ochako? Deku?" she said. Uraraka obliged, her hair bouncing as she slung two out of four packs over her shoulder. It was bizarre, really, how her tiny frame was capable of carrying such heavy weight. Midoriya himself strained as he tried to haul just one of the tightly stuffed packs, wondering quietly to himself just what exactly Hadou had stuffed in it.

Sunlight warmed Midoriya's face when he stepped out of the cave's mouth. He dropped his pack with an, 'oof', rocking back on his heels. His gaze fell to Uraraka, who was swiping the sweat from her brow and staring out into the forest. Midoriya followed suit, surveying the scene before them. It was a nice day out, much like yesterday. Warm rays of light filtered down through the trees, patterning the ground in bright spots. There was a nice breeze ruffling the undergrowth and tickling his hair. It was, according to Hadou and Uraraka, a good day to 'head out'. His heart squeezed in his chest. At this point, he was healed up and there was no reason for Uraraka and Hadou to stick around. They had a life to get back to, after all. Just this morning, the two had sat hunched by the fire, talking in low tones, no doubt discussing their plans to return to the city and their kingdom.

He grimaced. What did he have, exactly? Midoriya looked at the trees and the scrub and the leaves littering the ground, and found no answer.

"Deku?"

Midoriya jolted, his gaze shooting to Uraraka, who was peering curiously at him. He blinked, owlish. "Y-yeah?"

"You okay? You were sorta staring and making a face…"

Embarrassment sizzled in his blood, and his face grew hot. Midoriya forced himself to nod, looking away. "S-so-sorry," he said. The stammering had his face burning hotter, and Midoriya shoved down the urge to duck his head. He hated how words sometimes got stuck in his mouth, refusing to come out without a battle with his lips. It was embarrassing. A nervous habit, he supposed. Midoriya stared at the rotting leaves underfoot, wishing they'd fall away and the ground would just swallow him whole. Maybe then his problems would all disappear.

There was a quiet pitter patter of footsteps on the leaves, and a soft, gentle touch on the scarred skin of his shoulder. Despite the feather-light touch, it burned. Midoriya sucked in a breath, flinching and whipping his gaze up. Uraraka stared back with wide eyes, sadness thick like mud. "It's okay," she murmured. "You don't have to apologize." She drew her hand back, hesitant, and bit her lip. "I, uh, I don't know where you were heading, you know...before. But...you could come with us."

Midoriya stared. Uraraka stared back, toying with the sleeves of her dress, her already pink cheeks looking even pinker. Go with them? Him? Hope blossomed like a flower inside the hole in his chest. Uraraka and Hadou had been kind to him. They were wonderful people, and he found he didn't want to leave them. His lips curved into a grin, and he bobbed his head, eager. "Yeah, I'd like that. Thank you, Uraraka."

Her posture melted, tense lines disappearing, and a radiant grin lit her features. Midoriya felt warm all over. It was like the sun itself was giving him a hug. His arms twitched, and he was overwhelmed with the idea that he should hug her. Midoriya wanted to laugh and and cry and hug her and spin. Was this...were they friends now? Was this what having real, _true_ friends felt like? Fuzzy and warm and wanted? Midoriya sucked in a sharp breath, an unbidden thought of something else, something _more,_ tickling in the back of his mind. He shoved it away. It didn't matter. Only the present did; Uraraka's grin shining before him was like a beacon of hope, and he basked in its radiance.

"Oh-kay, I think that's everything." Hadou dropped the last pack at her feet. She nodded to herself, her hair bouncing with the movement. "Can you think of anything else we need?"

Uraraka furrowed her brows, her lips drawing into a thoughtful pout. "I don't think so…"

"Good." Hadou ducked back into the mouth of the cave, returning with both staffs in her hands. "The wind's blowing in our favor today, thank the gods. So we should have an easy time with it." She tossed Uraraka's staff to her, which Uraraka caught with ease. Hadou frowned at their packs. "How do we wanna do this?"

Uraraka shrugged. "Uh. Like usual? Tie the packs between us and go slow?"

At this, Hadou hummed. She looked between Midoriya and their packs, before quirking a brow at Uraraka. "Okay, but what about him?" she asked, jerking a thumb at him. Uraraka tilted her head. Confusion knit into her expression, bringing out an adorable pout. Midoriya bit his lip and looked away, suddenly warm.

"I thought he'd just ride with one of us?"

Hadou blinked. A wicked grin split her face. "Oh, I see. He can ride with you then." She busied herself with rearranging the packs into a small pile, uncoiling a large piece of twine and using it to tie the packs together. Uraraka stood by, her face growing red. Midoriya glanced curiously at her. She seemed a bit flustered, but he wasn't sure exactly why. The whole exchange was a bit confusing, really.

"What are we riding?" he asked. They couldn't be riding an animal. There wasn't any around. He was at a loss, and he stared dumbly at the two women as they shared a bemused look. Hadou straightened, twirling her staff in her hands.

"I suppose we should show him, eh?"

Uraraka grinned. "Yes, I suppose we should."

They both held their staffs out, perpendicular to the ground, and shouted, "Vitae!", releasing them from their grasp. The stones on the thicker ends of the staffs started to glow brightly, and before Midoriya's eyes, he watched them shudder and shake and change their shape. On their ends sprouted stiff bristles, like brooms. The staffs remained in the air, levitating off the ground. Midoriya gawked at the sight, understanding dawning on him. Brooms. Magic. Uraraka and Hadou were _witches?_

He watched, awed, as the two of them scrambled to prep for flight, tying their packs to the two brooms and adjusting a few knots here and there. It was an oddly complex setup; the four packs were tied in a square and rigged between the two brooms. Which they were going to fly on. In the air. Midoriya sucked in a breath, knots tying in his stomach. What was it like to fly? He'd always wondered, watching the birds in the mountains, but Midoriya never actually imagined he'd get to really _fly_. And on a broom no less. His legs felt like jelly at the thought.

Uraraka and Hadou both tested and retested their knots, ensuring everything was secure. It was mesmerizing watching the two of them work in tandem. They were so perfectly in sync, not once bumping into each other or needing to even speak their intentions.

"Okay," Hadou said, "that should do it." They both straightened up, dusting off their hands and both looking rather pleased with themselves. Hadou turned to him then, eyes sparkling. "Have you ever flown before? It's quite fun, you know. The wind in your hair and face, the bird's eye view; it's priceless. Unless it's stormy out. Then it's not very fun. The first time we flew through a storm, Ochako nearly-"

Uraraka shot into Hadou's space, waving her arms wildly, a flush staining her rosy cheeks. "Okay, okay, I think that's enough, yeah? Let's just get on with it." She turned on her heel, snagging Midoriya's wrist and dragging him over to her floating broom, her bangs falling forward and obscuring her face like a curtain. Midoriya tossed a helpless glance over to Hadou, who merely shrugged.

"Here." Uraraka tugged her cloak off of her shoulders, shoving it roughly into his arms. Midoriya blinked. He looked from the bundle of cloth in his arms to the girl standing before him, baffled. She merely kicked at the dirt, still looking anywhere but him. "The um, the sky is colder, up there," she mumbled. "You'll want an extra something to keep warm."

It was Midoriya's turn to flush. Something fluttered in his chest, and he bit his lip. "Bu-but, won't y-you be cold then?"

She hit him with a sharp look. "You don't have a shirt."

Midoriya bit his lip, looking down to the bundle of cloth in his arms. She was right; he had nothing to cover his shoulders. But, glancing to her thin sleeves, he felt horrible for taking her thick cloak. Especially after how much she'd already helped him; she'd given so much, it felt wrong to take more. "I-I can't…" He tried to give it back, extending the bundle towards her. Uraraka's look softened. She smiled, soft and kind, and pushed the cloak away.

"It's okay, really. You can give it back when we land, okay?"

Under the warmth of her reassurance, his resolve crumbled. Midoriya sighed, cheeks warm. "O-okay," he said. He tugged it over his head, the material soft against his skin. Of course, the cloak barely made it to his elbows, leaving his midriff free to the air. Midoriya flushed, embarrassed, ducking his head as Uraraka tugged at the edges of the fabric. She hummed quietly before stepping back.

"Better," she said. There was a loud cough, and the two of them whipped around to stare wide eyed at Hadou, who was perched atop her broom, whistling at the trees. Midoriya felt like he was aflame and that his heart was about to beat out of his chest. It was confusing, but he didn't have time to dwell on it, as Uraraka, looking noticeably pinker, nabbed his wrist again and turned his attention to her broom. "So, riding this is pretty easy. You just cross your ankles and hold onto me. Got it?"

Midoriya blinked. Hold onto her? "Uh, o-okay," he stammered, his stomach churning in anticipation. His hands curled and uncurled reflexively, and Midoriya stood by, shoulders stiff, as he watched Uraraka climb onto her broom. She tossed a look over her shoulder, grinning at him.

"Come on!"

He sucked in a breath. Welp. This was it. Midoriya stepped up, clasping a hand around the worn wooden handle. It was strangely smooth, despite the knobbiness. He threw a leg up and over, scooching up close so that he was only a hairsbreadth from Uraraka. Face burning, he reached up with trembling hands and clasped her shoulders. "I-I'm ready," he stammered. Uraraka let out a snort, her shoulders bouncing. She turned to peer at him over her shoulder, amusement dancing in her eyes.

"Deku, when I said hold onto me I meant wrapping your arms around my waist," she said with a laugh. "You know, so you don't fall?"

Midoriya blanched. Around her waist? Wasn't that too...forward? He already felt awkward, pressed so close to her. How did people stand it, being so touchy like this? His palms were sweaty and he felt jittery, like he'd vibrate right off the broom. The only person he ever hugged was his mother, which didn't exactly count for much. Bakugou wasn't much for hugs; the most he did was throw punches. And even Utsushimi was never gentle when she interacted with him. Midoriya sucked in a breath and wrapped his shaky arms around Uraraka's slim waist, feeling as though he might implode on the spot. She made no comment on his stiff posture, though, instead dipping her head in a sharp nod.

"Ready."

Hadou grinned. "Hold on tight, Deku."

He tightened his grip, heart hammering. One beat, two beats, and all was still. Midoriya frowned, brows furrowing in confusion. They were still very much on the ground. The only change was the distinct rattling of leaf litter scattering at their feet. He watched the dead leaves roll, the small breeze starting to pick up. Cool gusts of air blew the leaves in a cyclone around them, tugging at his trousers and cloak, raking through his hair. The strange gust picked up the pace, whipping air around them. Midoriya could hear the creak of nearby trees as their branches swayed. Suddenly, their feet lifted off the ground. He gasped, clinging tightly to Uraraka. They rose, higher and higher and higher, the gale whipping around them all the while. Midoriya clung so tightly to Uraraka that his fingers were already starting to grow numb. He could feel Uraraka's laughter rather than hear it; her whole body vibrated with it. "Cross your ankles!" she cried. Midoriya gulped, obliging. He risked a glance over to Hadou, who had a look of glee splashed across her features. Her long hair blew all over the place, curls bouncing in her face and mouth, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Seeya later, mountains!" Hadou cried. And then they were off. Midoriya couldn't help it; at the lurch of their broom, he yelped and buried his face in Uraraka's back, holding on for dear life. He could feel the terror like ice in his veins. Oh, gods, this was a terrible idea. He wasn't a bird, he couldn't fly! He was going to fall and die and oh, he was going to puke. His stomach pitched and rolled, and he squeezed Uraraka tighter, his previous hesitations left with his heart on the ground.

Moments passed, and Midoriya felt a feather light touch on his knuckles. "Deku," Uraraka whispered. Her voice was colored with amusement, sending a spike of embarrassment burning in his veins. "Look."

He sucked in a breath. And another. Steeling himself, he pulled his head up, blinking into the warm morning sun. His eyes widened in awe. "Gods," he breathed. The view was absolutely stunning. Low hanging clouds drifted past, and the horizon ahead was a calm, smoky blue. Midoriya risked a glance down to his right and gasped, feeling dizzy. Below them, the forest zoomed by, looking like little more than mottled green moss. Though, if he stared hard enough, he could see the canopy shift beneath his feet, and the realization made him feel breathless.

They were flying. They were really flying. On a broom, no less. Laughter bubbled up in his throat, and Midoriya threw his head back. Uraraka's laughter mingled with his own, and she yelled out a 'whoop'.

"See?" Hadou yelled, her hair whipping wildly in the wind. "I told you this was fun!"

Midoriya just grinned.

**~#~#~#~**

Flying was painful. As soon as they touched down, Midoriya somehow managed to peel himself away from Uraraka and all but collapsed on the dirt. His legs hurt, his back ached, and Midoriya didn't even want to think about the way his nether regions felt. He groaned, head hanging. Never again. Never again did he want to sit on a broom for what seemed to be hours on end. Truthfully, they'd been flying since dawn. Now, the sky was pink and orange again, and according to Uraraka they were just at the edges of their kingdom. Midoriya pressed his forehead into the dirt, trying not to think about how much farther they had to go.

A fit of giggles broke out above him. Midoriya grit his teeth, garnering the strength to raise his head and toss Uraraka and Hadou both a glare. The action merely earned him more giggles, and Hadou nearly toppled over, she was laughing so hard. His face grew warm and he looked away, stubborn.

"Hey, it's okay," Uraraka said. She bent down to his level, holding out a hand. "First time's always the worst. I can show you some stretches to help get out some of the kinks."

Midoriya sighed. He looked from her outstretched hand to the warmth of her gaze, his stubbornness crumbling. "Okay." Unsurprisingly, it took little effort for her to yank him to his feet. Midoriya winced and rubbed at his shoulder. Her strength was seriously going to wrench his shoulder one of these days. He watched as Uraraka and Hadou untied their luggage from the brooms in the same coordinated effort it took to tie it all up in the first place. Once that was accomplished, they both tapped their brooms and said, "Stillabunt," and the brooms shuddered and shook and reverted back to their staff shape.

Hadou leaned on her staff and stifled a yawn. "Well, while you two stretch, I'm gonna pop into town and set up our arrangements for the night." She didn't wait for an answer, instead stooping down to swipe one of their packs and slinging it over her shoulder. Hadou set off along the dirt path, waving her staff. "Just meet me at the inn when you two jelly-legs are ready!"

Midoriya made a face. Jelly-legs. The fact that his legs really did feel like jelly almost made the jibe worse. Then again, how could his legs not feel like jelly? He could feel pinpricks in his skin all the way from his thighs to his toes, like little needles stabbing into his skin. Midoriya winced, wiggling his tingly toes. He hated when his limbs fell asleep like this. Usually it happened when he was crouching on a rock ledge, watching the sheep.

"Here, let me show you those stretches," Uraraka said, pulling him from his reverie. She showed him her little routine, which mostly consisted of basic stretches and lunges, and they worked in silence. The mini workout helped ease the pins and needles in Midoriya's legs, and he couldn't help the relieved sigh that fell from his lips when he could wiggle his toes freely. Uraraka grinned at him, her rosy cheeks seemingly glowing in the low light. "Better?" she asked. He nodded.

"Yeah, thanks."

"Of course!" Uraraka stooped, then, plucking her packs from the ground. "Come on, I think we've killed enough time at the side of the road."

Midoriya grabbed the last pack, and they walked side-by-side along the dusty path. Tree branches hung low overhead, as though shading the road for weary travelers. The road was narrow, but seemed to be well used, if the compacted earth beneath their boots was anything to go by. He cast a glance over his shoulder. Behind him was the rise of a hill, and a never ending wall of tree branches. Of course, it was autumn, and the leaves were a swirl of vivid colors that matched the bleeding sky of dusk. Still, from the foot of the hill, he couldn't make out the line of mountains. It was...strange, to not see them there, ever present and looming.

Uraraka sighed beside him. "Ugh. I can't wait to sleep. All that flying's worn me out." She adjusted the packs over her shoulders, her boots dragging in the dirt as she walked. Midoriya could see how she stifled a yawn, and the way she seemed to sag under the weight of the packs she carried. He frowned.

"I ca-can carry one, if it makes it easier for you."

She slowed, eyeing him curiously. Another yawn bubbled to the surface, and Uraraka smiled sheepishly. "You know, it would. Thanks, Deku." Her words did funny things to him. His stomach flip-flopped strangely, and for once, the name made him feel...warm. Midoriya shrugged it off and took the extra pack with a smile. Of course, the pack was even heavier than the one he already carried. He tried not to topple over under its weight, grunting a bit under the strain. Gods, what did they have packed in here? Stones?

Uraraka giggled. "Got it?"

"Yeah," he said, voice thin, "I'm good."

She raised a brow, but shrugged and kept walking, leaving Midoriya to stagger after her. The walk itself wasn't too long; just two bends and another hill before the town came into view. Midoriya squinted down at the cluster of houses in the shadow of the hill. It was a small village, from the looks of it. The houses were different than the huts from home; instead of sticks and mud, they seemed to be made from stout logs, laid atop each other. Smoke curled from stacks of stone jutting from the roofs, and Midoriya could see people darting about the mucked streets. The gap in the treeline widened as they approached the village, the forest slinking further and further away from the edge of the road the closer they got to civilization. Midoriya couldn't help but feel a bit exposed. Back at home, their village was practically on top of the trees. Here, though, the trees kept their distance.

Midoriya followed Uraraka's lead as they staggered amidst the buildings. Their presence garnered a few curious glances, but thankfully no hostility. A tenseness Midoriya wasn't aware he was carrying drained from his shoulders, and he felt himself relax, some. Men carrying strange sticks with curved blades wandered the streets, talking quietly amongst themselves with bowed heads. Their clothes were worn and stained with sweat. Midoriya peered at them, curiosity bubbling inside him. "What's that they're carrying?" he asked, voice quiet. Uraraka followed his gaze.

"Oh, scythes? They use those to harvest grains. This town is mostly a farming town. You'll see the fields tomorrow once we pass through."

He jutted his lip out as he turned the information over in his head. Scythes. Interesting name. The blades were somewhat unnerving, with how they curved just so. It was a wonder that they were used for something so...menial.

Uraraka led them past a handful of buildings to what Midoriya guessed was the center of the small town, to a building just a bit larger than the rest. A few large animals were tethered out front, munching tiredly on what appeared to be dried grass. Horses, Midoriya realized. They hadn't had horses back at home, but he'd seen some, once or twice. The large heads, pointed ears, and thick manes of hair tickled at his memory. These ones were dull brown, with mud cakes to their muscular legs. One swished its tail lazily, swatting away the fat flies that zipped around them. On the porch lingered a few men, smoking something that smelled bitter, and a woman with skirts covered in patches and dust. They murmured amongst themselves, their voices low and urgent. Uraraka led him past, nodding to the group as they pushed through a pair of swinging wooden doors.

The inside was dark. Tables littered the main floor, many of which were occupied by men and women socializing after a long day. Fat candles made up the centerpieces, each one with a small, flickering flame cozying up the atmosphere. A savory smell hit Midoriya's nose, making his mouth water. Meat. It smelled remarkable, and his stomach growled with vigor. Uraraka snickered beside him, and he ducked his head in embarrassment. "Sorry," he muttered. She waved a hand.

"Don't be, I'm hungry too."

He followed Uraraka to the bar, where a boy about their age stood drying out a glass. He was tall despite his youth, managing to tower over most of the patrons, and had thick, muscular arms. Uraraka didn't seem all that intimidated by his large stature, however. She practically skipped up to him, waving eagerly. "Hey, Satou! How's business?"

Satou grinned. "Uraraka, hey! Things have been good 'round here. You guys just coming back from the mountains?"

"Yep!" She gestured to their stuffed packs. "We were low on a lot of inventory, so we had to stock up." Uraraka leaned on the bar, eyes sparkling in the low light. "Did Hadou already check us in?"

"Yeah, y'all are upstairs, in your usual room," Satou said. His gaze slid to Midoriya, and he paused his cleaning. "I don't think we've met before." His demeanor seemed pleasant enough, but Midoriya couldn't help the flash of nervousness that struck him like a bolt of lightning. He ducked his head in an awkward bow.

"C-ca-call me Deku," he stammered. Satou chuckled.

"Nice to meet you, Deku. Name's Satou, my parents run this joint. You a friend of Uraraka's?"

Midoriya sucked in a breath, mind ablaze. Every instinct he had begged to say yes, but doubt shadowed his mind and snagged his tongue. Was he? They hardly knew each other, really. After all, they'd only just met. Was it too soon to consider each other friends? What if he said yes, and Uraraka said no? Everything was spinning, and Midoriya tried to wrestle down the growing panic that flooded his system. _Just say something_, he told himself, _say yes, say-_

"Yes, he is!" Uraraka chirped, clasping his arm gently and with a touch of familiarity. She looked up at him and beamed, that kind, gentle look in her eyes. "Deku's just joining us in the city. Right, Deku?"

He managed a wobbly but relieved grin. "Right."

Satou eyed them curiously, but smiled. "Ah, I see." He leaned closer then, the smile fading and a serious glint shimmering in his eyes. "How was your trip?"

Uraraka shrugged. "Fine," she said. "There wasn't a whole lot of horsetail, but we made due. Why, want some herbs?" Her voice held a teasing lilt that had Midoriya smiling. Satou, however, seemed unaffected.

"You didn't see anything unusual, did'ja?"

She frowned, sharing a look with Midoriya. An uneasy feeling curled in his stomach as the images of bright, glowing eyes flickered in his thoughts. He shuddered.

"No, why?"

Satou looked grim. "There's been talk about monsters lurking at the edges of the forest. Deadly ones. Some folks that passed through earlier said that they saw a beast as black as night, with eyes that glowed with the fires of hell itself."

Midoriya gulped, trembling. It couldn't be. Could it? He could feel Uraraka's gaze on him, but he felt frozen in place. She reached out, grazing his arm with her fingers lightly before responding. "Well, I don't know what sort of rum they were drinking, but we didn't see anything weird out there. Come on, Deku, let's set our stuff down." She turned to Satou, leveling him with another grin. "Save us some food, would'ja?"

He snorted at that. "No promises!" Satou's amusement seemed to vanish as Uraraka turned away, and Midoriya could feel the boy's questioning gaze settle onto him. He managed a wobbly grin, before Uraraka snatched his wrist, dragging him towards the stairs hiding back in the corner.

"This place has the best food. Satou's mom can make a killer steak, and their sweet breads are to die for." She didn't mention the monsters, and for that Midoriya was grateful. The mention of food was also an excellent distraction; Midoriya's mouth watered at the thought. All they'd had to eat were simple fireside foods; mostly dried meat and stale bread. So a nice sit down meal sounded divine. Midoriya bit his lip, memories of his mother's cooking drifting to the forefront of his mind. She always made the best stew. Hearty meat, usually from the rams, wild onions, and plenty of carrots or potatoes imported from their trade efforts. He remembered nights helping her stir the stew over the roaring flames, and the few times she showed him how to add the many ingredients. His heart twinged in his chest, and he tried to shove those thoughts aside.

The staircase was narrow and rickety, with old wooden planks that creaked with every step he took. Midoriya held onto the walls and followed closely behind Uraraka. They went up one flight to the second floor, where the small rooms of the inn stood. There were some lit lanterns on either wall, giving off warm pools of light. The floor up here was just as creaky, with every other floorboard squeaking as Midoriya picked his way down the hall. Their room was apparently the second one on the right, and Uraraka practically kicked the dull red door open. "Hadou, we're here!"

"Oh, finally! Took you two long enough."

Midoriya poked his head into the small room, taking it in. The walls were a pale yellow, though the paint was peeling in numerous places. Two straw beds were crammed into the limited space, with perhaps an arm length separating them. On the wall in the space between the two beds was a tiny little hole of a window. Little light shone through; the sun had practically set by now.

Cautiously, Midoriya set the tow packs he carried onto the floor, letting out a relieved sigh. Oof, finally. He rolled his shoulders and stretched, trying to rid himself of the kinks he'd accumulated. A yawn threatened to burst forth. Gods, he was tired. The prospect of a warm meal and a nice night's sleep were certainly appealing.

Hadou clapped her hands together. "Okay, dorks, I'm starving. Let's get something to eat, yeah?"

Midoriya couldn't agree more.

* * *

**At long last, an update! Hopefully this was worth the wait! :3 Thanks for the read guys!**

**-Kat**


	7. Seven

Laughter rang in the air. Midoriya ran a finger along the top of his glass, his gaze darting about. It was late; outside of the swinging doors he could see the dark night sky. Inside, though, the candlelight made for a rather cozy atmosphere. Glasses clinked and voices rose and fell as the various patrons chatted amongst themselves. From their table, Midoriya watched Satou socialize with the guests that leaned against the bar. His youth seemed to add to his charm, and Midoriya saw most everyone walk off with another drink or two.

He sighed. The food was good. Excellent, even. A loaded plate of roast pork, so tender it practically fell apart in his mouth, and thick slices of honeyed bread laden with a helping of creamy, melted cheese. Add to that a sweat, cool ale, and Midoriya felt so full he could burst. He lifted his glass to his lips and took another sip. Warmth filled his stomach and seeped into his limbs. "This is so good," he said with a sigh, leaning a bit into Uraraka. She giggled beside him, nudging him with her shoulder.

"Right? That's why we always stop here." She took another bite of her bread, letting out an exaggerated moan that had Midoriya stifling a snort. "The Satous' cooking is worth a thousand crowns," Uraraka said. Hadou nodded from across the table.

"Yes, absolutely. Especially after days of digging around in the mountainous forests for herbs." She took another gulp of ale, slamming it down onto the tabletop with a pleased sigh. "Ugh, that always hits the spot, lemme tell you."

Uraraka fell into another fit of giggles, the sound infectious in Midoriya's ears. She doubled over, her rosy cheeks stained darker and her shoulders shaking. He couldn't help but join her, leaning even more into her space as he snorted. He felt giddy, almost. The other patrons around them were a hazy afterthought; it was as though the world had shrunk down to just their table. Midoriya snuck a glance to Uraraka. Mirth danced in her gaze, warm and bright, and they devolved again into laughter. Hadou sighed from her place across the table. "You two are a mess."

She rose, then, downing the last of her ale. "Come on, let's turn in for the night. It's late, and we've got a lot of flying to do tomorrow."

"Aw, come on, just one more drink?" Uraraka whined. Hadou tsked and shook her head.

"I'm pretty sure you've had enough for tonight. Come on." She clasped Uraraka's arm and tugged, urging her to her feet. Uraraka pouted, the sight having Midoriya's heart squeeze in his chest. He bit his lip and dropped his gaze to the flickering candle on their table, focusing instead on the shifting light. The familiar patterns of oranges and yellows soothed the erratic pounding of his heart, just for the moment.

"Fine, fine, I'm up," Uraraka said.

They wound their way around the remaining patrons and tables. Midoriya felt a few cursory glances cast his way, the curiosity and mild confusion they brought palpable in the air. He shifted uncomfortably beneath the cloth of Uraraka's cloak, feeling suddenly out of place. The cloak was too short on him, showing off his bare midriff, something that, based on the attire of the other patrons, was unusual. He'd been feilding odd looks all evening, but they were easier to ignore in the face of hunger and good company. Now, Midoriya found himself crowding closer to Uraraka and Hadou, ducking his head as his face burned.

Once in the safety of the rickety staircase's shadows, relief erased the tension and Midoriya felt his shoulders drop. He breathed a sigh. Uraraka cast him a curious glance, the light from the lanterns dancing across her features. "You okay?"

Midoriya forced a grin and jerked his head in a nod. "Yeah." It wasn't particularly a lie; he was fine, now. Besides, a good night's sleep and they'd be up in the air, far away from curious glances. Uraraka peered at him for a beat longer before offering a slight shrug, jogging up the rest of the steps to catch up to Hadou. He trailed behind her, stifling a yawn. With every moment that passed, sleep was starting to sound more and more appealing.

They crowded into their small room, moonlight adding splashes of light to contrast the layers of shadows. Midoriya found his way to his side of the room and crawled into the small bed. Up close, the bed gave off a musty smell. He crinkled his nose and peeled back the scratchy blankets. It was better than sleeping on the ground, he supposed. Midoriya tugged Uraraka's cloak off, carefully folding it and placing it on the floor beside the bed. He settled under the blankets, turning to peer at the bed beside him. Uraraka and Hadou were sharing it, huddled side by side. He couldn't help but feel bad. The room was clearly too small for three people, and the beds were certainly too small for two. Earlier, he'd offered to sleep on the floor, but both girls had shut him down and insisted he take the second bed.

He sighed, wondering again how he'd come to deserve such kindness.

Hushed whispers drifted from the bed beside him, but Midoriya paid it little mind. Sleep tugged at the corners of his mind, making him drift under that comforting darkness. He dreamed of little that night; of a confused cacophony of sensations and feelings, all forgotten by the time Hadou roughly shook him awake. Midoriya rose up, blinking away the bleariness. The room was lighter, soft grays painting the shadows.

"Time to wake up," Hadou said. Midoriya rolled off the mattress with a tired huff, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and bracing himself for another full day of travel.

_**~#~#~#~**_

Flying for the second time around was nowhere near as terrifying as the first. Midoriya was still breathless as they bolted into the air, the sensation of the earth dropping away below them making him feel dizzy. But he didn't squeeze his eyes shut in terror. Instead, he watched the buildings and people shrink and shrink and shrink below them, becoming little more than ants tracking across a boulder. It was strangely fascinating.

The wind was at their backs again. It pushed them forward, swelling under the magic that kept them suspended. Uraraka and Hadou seemed to flourish with the breeze, whooping and hollering. Moods were high at the start of the morning.

Down below, the tiny town fell away within moments, giving rise to a curious sight. Hills arose, dotted here and there with trees. But what Midoriya really noticed was the patterns. Emeralds and limes and aquas and pale yellows crisscrossed below them in patches, much like the patchwork quilts his mother made back at home. Midoriya gawked at the sight. He'd never seen anything like this before. He leaned to his right, staring down with furrowed brows. How had the earth come to resemble a quilt? It wasn't trees- the forests always looked like moving moss down below their feet. And it certainly wasn't mountains; even from this new angle, Midoriya was certain he'd recognize the formations of his home.

"It's the fields!" Uraraka yelled. Midoriya looked up.

"The what?"

"Fields!" She beamed at him, nodding down to the patchwork below. "Remember how I said that village grew grain?"

He nodded slowly, lips pursed. Grain fields. So...the patchwork design was a result of working the earth. Midoriya turned his gaze back downwards, awed. "Strange," he said. Uraraka laughed, and he could feel the way her laugh vibrated in her whole body. He swallowed, throat thick, and tried to quell the heat rising in his cheeks.

"It looks sort of pretty," she said. "And these fields connect with those from other towns too; the soil here is perfect for growing crops."

Midoriya hummed. They never grew much in the ways of crops in the mountains. The soil was poor and the air was thin; not much grew there outside the established pine forest. And even the forest had its limits, not bothering to dwell on the higher peaks. They had to rely a lot on trade for things like grains, which were quite expensive, according to the traders and the Guild. So to see fields as far as the horizon full of grain was quite the sight. He found himself leaning into Uraraka as they sped through the sky, watching the patterned fields speed by below him. Midoriya tried to tell himself he was just trying to keep from falling off the broom, but his thundering heart said differently.

If Uraraka noticed, she said nothing.

_**~#~#~#~**_

Midoriya grimaced. His legs felt wobbly and unsteady, like he was a newborn lamb. He'd done the stretches Uraraka had shown him last time, but that didn't seem to help too much. He supposed flying for what was certainly an entire day probably had something to do with that. Midoriya could hardly feel his toes; they were all tingly. Pinpricks ran up and down his legs, and he staggered behind Uraraka and Hadou, trying not to fall over. Midoriya was tired and sore and couldn't feel his feet.

"How far are we?" he asked, cringing at the way he wheezed. Hadou didn't seem to notice, not even sparing him a glance.

"Just about a mile out."

Uraraka tossed a sympathetic look over her shoulder. She slowed, waiting for him to catch up. "Sorry," she said, "we'd have flown closer, but…"

"It's frowned upon to fly close to cities," Hadou chirped. She was exceedingly chipper, too much so. There was a bounce in her step, and the older girl seemed to vibrate happiness. Midoriya didn't know where she got the energy, but he couldn't help but feel a little jealous. He bit back a sigh and shouldered the pack he carried.

"Why is that?"

Uraraka shrugged. "It makes townsfolks nervous, I guess." She didn't elaborate further, leaving Midoriya to ponder in silence. Her answer felt a bit like a deflection, or a shadow of a truth, but he had no idea what that truth could be. Midoriya felt very out of his element here, thrust into a shiny new world with customs he was unfamiliar with. He was exposed, out in the open, wide stretch of road, surrounded only by rolling hills, smatterings of trees, and the uncertainty of his future weighing down on his shoulders. Midoriya sighed, gaze dropping to the dirt below his feet.

The stretch of road they walked on was wide and well trampled; well used. Midoriya could see gouges in the earth, accompanied by the smattering of dish sized hoof prints. Wagons, he assumed. Here and there, he could make out dusty boot prints as well. Around them, shrubs and trees bordered the road, lending a little shade. The fields had fallen away for the most part a few miles back, as the earth had grown more and more hilly. Still, signs of civilization were here.

Midoriya adjusted the pack's strap on his shoulder. Gods, it was heavy. He couldn't wait to put it down once and for all. He snuck a glance at Uraraka walking beside him, who hardly seemed phased by the two heavy packs she carried. She practically bounced as she walked, her short hair swaying with grace. Warmth blossomed in his belly, and Midoriya jerked his gaze back to the road ahead. _Focus_, he scolded himself. His face burned a bit, and Midoriya hoped Uraraka wouldn't notice.

Ahead, a distinct crack sounded in the air, making Midoriya jolt. It was accompanied with jingling and creaking, and Hadou veered them off the road and into the tall grass. Around the next bend came a horse drawn wagon, its conductor cracking a whip in the air above the two sweaty animals. The horses' heads were bowed, dust smeared on their bodies around the harnesses strapped to them. The man sitting atop the front of the wagon was dusty too; he dabbed at his face with a rag, smearing sweat and mud across his haggard features. He was all bent and hunched, beady eyes staring ahead with a vacant look. He hardly seemed to notice them as his rickety wagon trundled past. The wagon itself was empty, aside from a pair of scraggly looking kids, who peered over the edge of their wagon at their group as they passed by. Midoriya watched them go, the rickety wagon disappearing down the hill and vanishing from sight. "Come on," Hadou said, voice soft. They trudged back onto the road, curving around the bend.

Around the bend, the road dipped down another steep incline, and the trees receded away from the edges of the ditch. Midoriya raised his gaze from his boots to what lay ahead, and he stopped with a gasp. Down below, was a wide valley. A blue ribbon cut through the landscape; a river, perhaps. Dominating the skyline, though, were great stone walls, that rose from the earth and stood proud, like a king on his throne. From here, Midoriya could see an archway, where a multitude of dots milled about. People, entering and leaving. Beyond the walls, he could see the gentle rise of rooftops, giving way to the grand battlements and towers of the castle standing proudly in the middle of the city. He gawked at the sight. This...this was the city? Even from here, it was huge. Midoriya teetered in place, dizzy and overwhelmed.

Uraraka bounced on the balls of her feet, an excited grin lighting her features. "So? What do you think?" A light breeze picked up as she spoke, tickling Midoriya's face and tousling his hair. He looked from her bright eyes to the winding road ahead of them, anticipation curling in his gut. Midoriya bit his lip.

"It's...big."

At that, Hadou barked out a laugh. "Oh, just wait until you see inside. There are so many buildings crammed into that city, it's ridiculous. You could almost take a stick and poke one and they'd all knock into each other like dominos and come tumbling down! And that castle. The King went all out building that thing, that's for sure. I've been inside of it a few times, y'know, and whew, I almost got lost every time. 'Course, I suppose it didn't help that I kept getting distracted by all the pretty decor-"

"Okay!" Uraraka cried, jumping forward and clasping Hadou's arm. "I think he gets it."

Midoriya's lips twitched, and he bobbed his head vigorously to hide his amusement. Hadou rolled her eyes and huffed. She shoved Uraraka away with a pout, and Midoriya had to bite his lip to keep from chuckling. "Fine, fine," she huffed, waving her hand. "Well, we shouldn't dilly dally, come on, kids." Hadou tossed her head, her glossy, shimmery hair swaying as she stalked forward. Uraraka shot Midoriya an exasperated look before trudging on after her. He couldn't help the snicker that sprung loose. Midoriya shook his head and followed.

Down the hill they went. The incline was steep, and more than once, Midoriya feared he'd lose his footing and roll head over heels to the bottom of the valley. They moved slowly, Hadou's idle chatter filling the afternoon air. Ahead, Midoriya could see more clusters of travelers, with wagons and horses and even some on foot. The stone walls of the city grew in size as they approached, and before long the dusty stone towered over them, casting them in shadow. Up close, he could see soldiers moving around at the tops of the walls, pointed spears clutched in their hands. At the archway, more soldiers lingered. A few had spears, but most had swords belted at their sides. They stopped travelers, checking wagons and bags and questioning troupes before permitting them access through the massive archway. Midoriya watched with furrowed brows, his curiosity piquing as the guards nodded the next pair on ahead. He leaned closer to Uraraka. "What are they doing?"

"It's a checkpoint," she said. "They make sure no one suspicious enters the city."

Midoriya frowned at this. Suspicious? "Like who?" he blurted. Uraraka let out a soft laugh.

"I dunno. They didn't always do this; it's been a new thing the past few years." Her smile faded, an almost somber look overtaking her features. "Ever since Prince Touya disappeared, anyway," she muttered, voice so low Midoriya almost didn't hear her. Curiosity sparked in him like a flame, questions already welling up on the tip of his tongue. Prince Touya? Who was that? He nearly voiced his thoughts, but the shadow in her usually bright eyes had him swallowing them down like bitter herbs. Instead, Midoriya ducked his head and focused on Hadou's shadow as it swayed across the dirt path in front of him.

"Stop, please!"

Their little party came to a halt right at the foot of the city's gates. Midoriya glanced up, shrinking under the assertive stare of the guard before them. He was taller by a good head and a half, dark hair swept back and lips set in a deep frown. The uniform he wore was tidy; no wrinkles in the vibrant red jacket. The buttons down his front gleamed, as though they were polished, and even his charcoal black boots lacked dust. His gaze was sharp and observant; Midoriya felt like a mouse being surveyed by a hawk. Even the wire-rimmed glasses set on his face were intimidating. Midoriya cringed as he felt himself tremble beside Uraraka. Oh, gods, what if they didn't let him into the city? The thought was entirely illogical, Midoriya knew. They had no reason to keep him out. That he knew of, anyway. It wasn't as though being exiled from his clan had any bearing on other civilized areas, right? He trembled harder. Oh, gods, what if it did? What if they _knew_, and he was barred from going anywhere, ever? It was stupid and made zero sense, but the terror clawing at his stomach was here and real and clouding his mind. He could only stand dumbly as Uraraka and Hadou initiated the exchange beside him.

"What is your business here?" the guard asked. Hadou rolled her eyes, and to Midoriya's utter shock and horror, leaned heavily on her staff.

"Oh, Iida junior, don't be all serious like that," she said. "You know exactly why we're here; no need to be so formal."

The guard stiffened, a look of indignance stamping across his features. "You know as well as I do, miss Hadou-san, that this is merely protocol! I must ask you what your business is, that is my purpose!"

Uraraka sighed and gave Hadou a sharp nudge. "It's okay, Iida-kun, she's just teasing you. We're just coming back into the city with our new stock."

Iida seemed to flounder for a second, his expression flashing between angry, confused, and exasperated. "I- well- uh, yes, of course." He bowed deeply, before fixing his attention on Midoriya. "And who is this?"

Midoriya stiffened, gulping. He opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. There was a beat of silence, in which panic rose within his veins, and then Uraraka swooped in to the rescue. She tossed an arm over his shoulder, the contact making his face flush hot, and grinned so bright Midoriya feared he'd go blind from proximity. "Oh, this is our friend, Deku. He's decided to move here to the city with us! Right, Deku-kun?"

He nodded wordlessly. Iida's gaze lingered, something sharp and curious glimmering there in his dark violet irises. Midoriya bit his lip hard enough that it stung, his gaze dropping to the pebbles at his feet. He could feel the heat stinging his cheeks beneath the scrutiny. His fingers toyed with the threads of Uraraka's cloak, and for probably the hundredth time he wished it was long enough to cover his exposed midriff.

"Tenya, what's the hold-up?" Another guard appeared at their side, his face split in an easy-going grin. He had the same dark hair and square features as Iida, though instead of serious, hard eyes, there was a warmth there. Iida straightened, hand flying up in a salute.

"Sir, Captain, Sir! Just asking routine questions, Sir!"

The captain laughed, patting Iida on the shoulder. "At ease, little brother." He turned to them, his grin brightening at the sight of Hadou. "Nejire-san! Back from the mountains, I presume?"

Hadou nodded, her hair bouncing as she laughed. "Tensei! How are you doing? The cadets keeping you busy? And yeah, we just got back now; got lots of new stock for the shop. And new people. Deku's a friend of ours, coming to stay in the city with us. Y'know, wanting to get out, see the world, that sort of schtick." Her word-vomit seemed to have little effect on the captain, who merely laughed and waved her off.

"Well, we're glad to see you two back in one piece. Say hi to Yaoyorozu for me, would you?"

"Of course!" Hadou chirped. The captain chuckled, turning his grin to Midoriya. He extended a friendly wave, much to Midoriya's relief.

"And nice to meet you, Deku. Enjoy the city; you're in good hands, here."

Midoriya wasn't given time for a response; the captain clapped him on the shoulder and waved their little group onwards. He caught Iida's stare for a second, and then Uraraka's arm was looping through his and she was dragging him on beneath the archway. Shadows flickered across his vision, and then they were standing amidst the hustle and bustle of the capital of Endeavor.

One breath in, and Midoriya was assaulted by smells. Thick smoke mingled with the savory smells of meat on the cusp of a breeze. Sweat and perfumes clogged the next, accompanied by the acrid stench of sewer and manure. He wrinkled his nose, suppressing the desire to cover his face with Uraraka's cloak still nestled across his shoulders. His attire was already unusual enough, no need to raise any more eyebrows.

The buildings were clustered tightly together, creating narrow, cobblestone streets. Ropes crisscrossed from upper story windows, with towels and trousers and undergarments strung across them, shifting slightly in the gentle breeze. People were everywhere, too; darting between buildings, walking down streets, skirts swishing and coattails fluttering. There were shrieks of laughter from children as they darted around their parents' legs, playing games with balls and wooden sticks. So much was happening at once, that Midoriya felt almost dizzy trying to take it all in. Uraraka tugged on the sleeve of his cloak. "Come on, this way!" She led him into the cluster of buildings in streets, her hand remaining clasped tightly onto the cloak that he wore. Which, admittedly, was probably for the best, as Midoriya was still not really paying much attention to where they were walking. His gaze was taken with his surroundings, trying to absorb it all at once. Bright colors and rickety, horse drawn wagons, and vendors in the streets, trying to sell their wares; everywhere Midoriya looked, something exciting and different was happening.

The best part was that in the hustle and bustle of the city, no one seemed to notice his unusual attire. For the first time in awhile, he blended right in.

Hadou and Uraraka led him deeper into the city, where the buildings seemed to get tighter together. Streets were so narrow that horses could barely fit down them, and residential housing seemed to pick up in number. The clusters of people seemed to dwindle as well, with only handfuls of residents lingering about. They ducked down another street, coming to a stop outside of a rather curious building.

"Here we are!" Hadou chirped, throwing her arms into the air. "Home sweet home, at last!"

Midoriya adjusted the pack still settled on his shoulders, his head tilting to the side as he stared. The building he stared at was clearly a shop; the wooden door was propped open with an old barrel, the metal rings holding it together rusted and the wood warped and rotted. Over the doorway hung a wooden sign that read: **_Winds Apothecary Shop._** The shop was old, the building worn and tired. It leaned ever so slightly to the side, like an old man leaning against a fence post. Vines crawled up the stone walls, leaves shiny with dew. Even the roof seemed to sag a little, as though it was tired and worn out from staying upright all day. Midoriya could see a plethora of potted plants crowding the window ledges from inside the shop, their leaves vying desperately for the little sunlight that trickled down from the clouds overhead. Up a story was another set of windows, curtains drawn tight behind the glass. He presumed that was the living quarters, if the shop was the lower floor.

"Oh, gods, I can't wait to sleep in my own bed," Hadou groaned, stomping into the shop. She chucked her staff at the stoop, letting it bounce against the wall before miraculously staying upright right beside the doorway. The precision was curious, and Midoriya stared at it for a moment. How did it stay? And why did Hadou leave it? Surely someone would steal it, right?

"It's charmed," Uraraka said softly from beside him. Midoriya jumped, starled. An unseemingly squeak slipped past his lips, and he flushed in embarrassment. Uraraka nodded to the staff, an amused smile warming her expression. "You seemed confused about the staff, right?"

He nodded. "Ye-yeah, a bit. You said it's charmed?"

"Yep!" she said, popping the 'p'. "The charm was a little complicated- it was my first one. It basically tells the staff where to sit in the stoop and keeps people from stealing it." Uraraka shrugged. "But yeah, that's why she just tossed it. Wanna give it a try?" She held her own staff out to him, gaze soft and shy. Midoriya eyed the staff, admiring the glittering pink orb on the thicker end. He reached out, his fingers grazing the wood. It was surprisingly smooth, the bark worn from years of use. It wasn't too hefty; a bit heavier on the side with the orb. Midoriya tossed it towards Hadou's staff, and like magic, it zipped to the stoop and rattled into place. He blinked, awed by the sight.

"Whoa."

Uraraka grinned. "Cool, isn't it?"

It was. A useful little charm, that seemed so small but was fascinating to watch. Midoriya felt that he could play with it all day long, if given the opportunity. But the bite of the pack's strap against his shoulder and the breeze tickling his exposed midriff had his attention shifting to the shadowy doorway. Uraraka seemed to sense the change in him, for she grasped his arm and tugged him forward. "Come on," she said, "let's get inside."

Midoriya's first thought upon entering the apothecary shop was _cozy_. Low burning lamps hung from the overarching support beams, throwing pools of orange light onto the various shelves of merchandise. Gleaming crystals, large, drooping plants, and an odd assortment of corked glass containers lined the shelves along the walls. Against the back left wall stood a large, oaken desk, the wood polished to shine under the glow of the lamplight. To its left, was the shadow of a doorway, curtain pulled across it. Behind the desk, were more shelves, alongside a rack of brooms and barrels and sacks. Perched behind the desk was a girl about their age, her long black hair twisted up into a messy ponytail. She was bent over a roll of parchment, scribbling furiously with a puffy, white quill pen.

"Momo, we're home!" Uraraka sang. The girl's gaze flicked up for merely half a second; Midoriya would have missed it if he wasn't looking.

"Good," she said, "then you can help me with the backlog of deliveries we've accumulated. Of course it's when you two go galloping across the countryside that we get slammed with orders." She spoke no more, bending closer to her parchment, so much so that Midoriya was surprised her nose wasn't pressed into it. The silence between them was filled with only the scratching of her quill. Uraraka shook her head and sighed, leaning closer to him.

"This is Yaoyorozu Momo," she said, voice soft. "She helps us run the place. She's really good at potion making and keeping organized, which, well." Uraraka rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "It's something we're grateful to her for, I'll say." She pushed Midoriya along, ushering him past the desk and into the doorway behind Yaoyorozu. They pushed through the curtain, and Midoriya stifled a gasp. Shelves dominated his view. Floor to ceiling, they were crammed tight with crates and crates of magical things. Potions, and charms, and other things Midoriya couldn't even begin to decipher. Each crate was labelled carefully with a piece of parchment, though Midoriya was unable to decipher the inky scrawl. In the middle of the room, was a ladder, leading to a little person sized hole in the ceiling. A soft light drifted down, giving the store room a soft glow.

He looked at Uraraka, jaw hanging open. "Is this...all the stuff you've made?"

She laughed, nodding. "Yep! These are all orders we've filled, just waiting for patrons to pick up. Of course, a lot of them need delivered, but we'll sort that all once we settle in." She stifled a yawn, adjusting her two packs. "I don't know about you, but I'm beat."

Midoriya felt the heaviness in his limbs and the ache of his muscles. He was tired too, and felt as though he could sleep for eons. He let his gaze fall to his dusty boots and shrugged. "Sleep would be nice…"

"Then up we go!"

He watched, brows raised, as Uraraka swept past him and started up the rickety old ladder. The soft light seemed to make her glow, and Midoriya suddenly forgot how to breath. He averted his attention to the many crates, staring listlessly at the silvery cobwebs and dust decorating them and the shelves they rested on. So many questions brewed in his mind. He wanted to know everything; how did one make a potion? Were they easy to make? And could anyone use them? Who ordered all of these? How much gold did they even cost? By the bite of the pack he shouldered, Midoriya could tell that a lot of materials were needed. That took time to collect, time away from delivering, if the full shelves were anything to go by.

"You coming?"

Midoriya jolted, whipping his gaze up to the ladder. Uraraka's head hung down through the hole, her hair falling from her face and spilling into the shadows. He flushed, nodding furiously. "Ye-yes," he stammered, practically tripping over his own two feet as he clamored to the ladder. There was a giggle, and Uraraka vanished from sight, the soft light momentarily blinding him. Midoriya grasped at the wooden ladder blindly, allowing his senses to guide him up one rung at a time.

Through the hole he went, scrabbling to throw the pack onto the floor before he slipped and fell back down into the storeroom. Warm hands grasped his arm and helped pull him up and into the room, and when Midoriya looked up he was met with the cheery gaze of Uraraka as she helped him to his feet. "Welcome home," she said, voice soft and shy. Midoriya felt his heart skip a beat.

_Welcome home._

He smiled, at that.

* * *

**Here's the next bit! Sorry this took so long, life's been hectic! Hopefully it was worth the wait! ;3**

**-Kat**


	8. Eight

Dawn's first fingers of sunlight warmed his skin, and Midoriya shifted. He scrunched his face in a frown, a sleepy half whine bubbling in his throat as he tugged his woolen blankets up over his head. Sleep still lingered in his bones. He burrowed his face into the old, plush pillow, breathing a sigh.

It felt nice to relax.

Midoriya wondered idly when the last time he was able to just lie in bed for a few short moments and enjoy the quiet of the morning was. Had it only been a few short weeks since his exile? It felt like a lifetime ago. A lifetime of sleeping in caves or on flying brooms or in strange inns on the road. Now, he had a bed to himself. It was small, of course. The guest bed, as Hadou had called it. It was tucked away in a room barely larger than a closet, in the corner of the upstairs of the shop. There was only one tiny window, opposite the door. Sunlight streamed through it and spilled onto his bed, warm and comforting. He blinked his eyes open slowly, squinting up at the slanted ceiling overhead.

This place was cozy. Hadou and Uraraka had run amuk yesterday ensuring that he felt comfortable in the new space, even going so far as to 'air it out', as Hadou put it. According to Uraraka's quiet musings, it wasn't often they had guests stay the night. "I'm from the south," she had said, "and mom and dad hardly visit. Hadou doesn't tend to have people over much either. She always says she's too busy with the shop. But it's yours now!" And she had beamed at him with that bright grin that made his knees tremble.

A low rumble from his stomach had Midoriya sighing and rolling out of bed. He tugged on his dust battered trousers and boots, shivering a bit under the morning chill. The only downside of the room was that it was a bit drafty, and Midoriya unfortunately had no cloak to keep him warm. He rubbed at his arms in an attempt to warm them as he pushed open his door and crept down the hall.

The way the little house was arranged went something like this; in the center of the upstairs, was the living space. Wide and open, there were plush, soft chairs seated around a thick rug, and a tiny wood furnace sat against the wall opposite them. A large, wood framed window let golden light bleed into the space from across the way, and gave a nice view of the dusty streets down below. Behind the chairs stood the kitchen, which was little more than a wood stove and some counter space. Shelves lined the walls, and a person-sized hole in the wall served as a pantry, where some of the storable foods were kept. This was also the space that had the trapdoor leading from the shop downstairs up into the living quarters.

To the right were the bedrooms. Three in total; Hadou's room, the largest, Uraraka and Yaoyorozu's, and his own, tucked at the end of the hall. On the left of the living space sat the washroom, with a nice porcelain tub, a sink, and a chamberpot. Altogether, the place wasn't very large, but it was well kept and felt like a home.

As Midoriya crept down the hall, a savory aroma tickled his nose, and his mouth watered. Gods, that smelled good. He peeked into the living space only to see Yaoyorozu crouched in front of the wood stove, stoking the flame with more wood. Her hair was down this time, in a long, black curtain on her back, and she appeared to be dressed in a simple shift; a contrast to her more intimidating appearance yesterday. A pan of something sat on the iron coils, and whatever it was had Midoriya practically drooling from the smell alone. His stomach growled again, louder this time, and his face burned when Yaoyorozu looked over her shoulder.

"Oh, you're awake," she said. He nodded, his gaze skirting to the floor. There was a rustle, and the sound of metal clanking against metal. "You're welcome to sit," she said, "breakfast will be ready soon."

Midoriya shuffled to one of the plush chairs, carefully lowering himself onto the cushion. It bounced as he sat. The chair was soft, the fabric velvet. He idly ran his hands on the armrest, admiring the sensation under his fingers. It was older, the velvet worn off on the edges here and there. Midoriya snuck a glance over his shoulder at Yaoyorozu, who had busied herself at the stove, stirring up whatever it was that she was cooking. Silence stretched between them, and Midoriya didn't know how to fill it. So he stared at the colorful rug underfoot, admiring the swirling patterns as he waited for food to be served.

It wasn't long for the aromas of good food to rouse the rest of the house's inhabitants. Soon after Midoriya had sat down, Hadou shuffled into the room and plopped down on the chair beside him, offering a mumbled, "Good mornin'," before seeming to snooze in her perch against the pink cushions. Uraraka was the last to rise, smiling with bleary, sleepy eyes and waving halfheartedly at him while stifling a yawn. She chose to sit on the floor, arms splayed out behind her and her shift pooling around her thighs and onto the hardwood. Midoriya averted his gaze, face hot. Nope, he was not about to stare at Uraraka's thighs. No indeed.

Breakfast was served with little fanfare, Yaoyorozu handing out little ceramic plates piled high with all sorts of mouth-watering goods. Thick slabs of fried meat, chunks of warm, steaming bread topped with a slice of melting cheese. Eggs with golden, runny yolk filled the rest of the space, and Midoriya tucked in with gusto. As the food hit his taste buds, Midoriya couldn't help the small moan that spilled unbidden from his lips. Three pairs of eyes looked at him, and he felt his face burn hot. "S-so-sorry," he mumbled. Uraraka smiled up at him from her place on the floor.

"It's okay," she said. "Momo's a pretty good cook."

Hadou hummed, swallowing down a mouthful of bread. "Yeah, there's a reason Ochako and I don't cook much." She snorted, taking a swig of the cream Yaoyorozu had poured them all. "The last time I let Ochako near the stove, she almost burnt the building down."

Uraraka squeaked, her face flushed darker than usual. "I did not!" she cried. Yaoyorozu snickered, trying valiantly to hide her laugh behind her hand.

"You nearly did."

"Momo!" The pout on Uraraka's face was adorable. Terribly so. Midoriya couldn't stop the fluttering in his stomach if he tried. She leaned forward, pointing an indignant finger at a bemused Yaoyorozu. "You're supposed to be on my side!"

She shrugged, giggles wracking her body. "Sorry, Ochako, but it's the truth." Yaoyorozu sombered almost immediately, before rising with a grace that had Midoriya blinking in mild awe. "Today we really need to tackle all those deliveries. We are very behind now, since you two have been gone for over a week on that excursion of yours."

Hadou huffed, stuffing more food into her mouth. "Ish too earwy fuh you tah be biffin' about ordersh," she said, crumbs and grease spilling from her mouth. She swallowed and swiped a hand across her chin. "Besides, we really needed to restock; you know that."

Yaoyorozu sighed, rolling her eyes before turning to whisk her plate back to the counter. "Yes, I am aware. Still, as I was left alone at the shop, it was impossible to keep up, since business has been rising. Hence, we are behind."

The silence that settled was sudden, and Midoriya didn't know what to do with it. He took in the nonchalance in Hadou's slouched shoulders, the contemplative look in the furrow of Uraraka's brow. And the imposing stare of Yaoyorozu, as she leaned against the counter by the stove, plush lips turned down in a frown. He returned his gaze to his nearly empty plate, picking at the soft bread still left there.

"Well," Uraraka said, "I was hoping to show Deku around the city a bit. But…" She tapped a finger against her chin. "I suppose we could knock out both at the same time. Then we can carry more, too."

Midoriya's breath caught in his throat, and he couldn't help it when his gaze jerked back to Yaoyorozu. Her frown was deeper, and she peered between the two of them with a thoughtful look. There was a dark glimmer there in those steel colored eyes, something that had Midoriya looking away and sinking lower in his seat.

"Hmm. I suppose, so long as he isn't going to be a distraction."

He sunk lower, thorns squeezing his chest.

"Don't be so harsh, Momo," Hadou snapped. The sudden outburst exploded forth like a burst of heat. The room fell silent, everyone staring. Hadou glared at Yaoyorozu, expression cloudy. The strangest thing, though, was the sudden wind roughly combing Midoriya's hair. It rattled through the room, clawing at hair, clothes, and the dishes hanging on the drying rack. Hadou pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. The wind died immediately, gone as quickly as it appeared. "Sorry, I shouldn't be snappish. But, you should also mind your manners. Deku is a guest with us, right, Ochako?"

Uraraka blinked, eyes wide, before nodding.

"Right." Hadou rose, tossing her long hair over her shoulder. "So, I will help you with filling orders, Ochako and our new guest will deliver the orders that are filled." She crossed over to the counter and set her dishes down, humming to herself before whisking back down the hall to her room. Uraraka rose next, smiling her gentle smile.

"Well, we need to get ready if we're gonna deliver all those orders." She offered a hand. Midoriya found himself smiling back and taking her hand gratefully.

"Thanks," he murmured. Uraraka beamed.

As they put up their dishes and departed down the hall, Midoriya could feel Yaoyorozu's cutting gaze lingering on his shoulders, watching, questioning. He shivered, stepping quicker to the sanctity of his room.

**~#~#~#~**

Midoriya shifted in place. He stood in the living space, staring at the high ceiling as he waited. It hadn't taken long to prepare for the day; a quick scrub down and rinse off and he was ready to go. It felt nice to be clean, for the most part. He frowned down at his ratted, dusty trousers and borrowed cloak. Well, mostly clean. He wondered if it were possible to trade for some materials to make new clothes. Midoriya wasn't particularly great with sewing, but he knew roughly how to fashion a pair of trousers. It was one of the few domestic things his mother insisted on showing him.

"You can't always rely on others," his mother always said. "This is something that can be useful for you to know."

Of course, without the means to make trousers, he was left with what he had.

"You ready?" Uraraka's voice drew Midoriya from his thoughts, and he blinked at her bouncing form, only to freeze. A soft, pastel dress that fell below her knees matched the rosiness of her cheeks. The sleeves were wide, flaring out at the elbow and fluttering as Uraraka swung her arms back and forth. He found himself blushing. It was a simple dress, but she looked stunning and put together, and he...well. Midoriya shuffled his feet.

"Y-yeah."

"Come on, then!" she chirped, clasping his arm and dragging him over to the trapdoor. With a powerful tug, Uraraka threw the heavy door open, revealing the ladder down below. She dropped and descended before Midoriya could even draw a breath, leaving him staring wide-eyed. He shook himself. Getting distracted like that was definitely not going to help him out at all. Midoriya sucked in a breath and descended the ladder after her, hopping down into the store room of the little shop.

When his gaze found her, she was scanning over a stack of parchment with furrowed brows. He watched as she hummed and sat the stack onto a rickety little table, her gaze finding his. She beamed, then. "Here." Uraraka snatched something hanging off a hook next to the doorway and thrust it at him- a satchel, by the look of it. It was similar to the packs they had on the return trip to the city, just bigger, with a wider central pocket. Midoriya took it and watched as Uraraka scurried about. "So, as you can see we're about overflowing here." She paused, yanking out a crate. His brows furrowed as she pulled the strangely shaped bottles and vials from the crate. Some were long and spindly, others fat and round- all filled with strange substances that ranged in viscosity. Where one bottle had something loose and liquidy, like water, others had something thick and almost solid, like tar. The vials' contents all ranged in color too- bright oranges, yellows, reds, to cooler colors like blues and greens. Midoriya leaned in close, eyes wide with awe. Uraraka then produced a roll of burlap and a knife, slicing squares large enough to bundle tightly around the glass wares to protect them. "We make anything from charms to potions, and right now is our busy season."

Midoriya blinked. "Really?"

Uraraka laughed, arms full. "I know, right? Who knew there was a season for potions." It was a strange concept. What made people more prone to ordering magical potions now, as opposed to next month? Midoriya chewed his lip, scrutinizing the air as Uraraka placed the vials into the satchel one at a time. Perhaps it had to do with the impending onset of winter? Winter as a season was harsh, unforgiving. It ushered in an era of desolateness, the cold and ice as relentless as it was deadly. It wasn't unreasonable for people to be more afraid, and therefore more likely to buy into the potion business, then. Right?

Minutes later, and the two were stepping out of the musty storage space and into the main body of the shop. Between them, they carried two satchels, both stuffed to the brim with various magical orders. Midoriya sniffled, suppressing the urge to sneeze. Ugh. Dust was the worst. He rubbed a bit at his nose, trailing behind Uraraka.

Inside the shop, things were quiet. A few customers crowded the desk where Yaoyorozu sat, dark hair tied in a high pony and white blouse crisp and bright against the cool shadows. Their voices were a low murmur in the background, and the two of them didn't stop to chat with anyone inside, instead stepping out into the warm, sunlit street. Out here, the din from the city clashed together in a chaotic harmony. Shouts from neighbors greeting each other in the street, the click-clack of hooves against the cobblestones underfoot, shrieks from kids running about, playing their games, among other noises all melding together and ringing in Midoriya's ears. He looked to Uraraka, who rocked onto the balls of her feet. "Let's go."

A sharp right turn, and past the many stone buildings they went. Uraraka marched like a woman on a mission, striding with an almost graceful bound that was surprisingly difficult to keep up with. Midoriya found himself scurrying after her, breath falling from his lips in hurried puffs of air. He clasped the leather strap of the satchel so tight that his fingers started to tingle a bit.

"So, the city is sort of situated like a giant rectangle," Uraraka said over her shoulder. "If you ever get lost, just try to look for the wall's battlements and work your way inward. That should help you figure out what street you're on." They ducked down another street, the ever imposing wall looming overhead. Midoriya could see why it made a good point of reference; it was high enough to be visible above the rooftops of the houses and shops. Providing protection and a sense of security, its shadow was like a comfortable blanket. Midoriya wondered what it was like, though, to stand atop the wall. Would everything look as small as it did while flying?

Uraraka drew to a stop. She rifled through her satchel, pulling out one of the carefully wrapped bundles. "Okay, first stop. The Kobayashi residence." She jerked her head at the doorway in front of them. The building looked the same as all the other buildings here in the city; worn grey stone, with soft vines creeping up the walls. There were three steps leading up to a wooden door with a shiny and polished copper knocker. Uraraka closed her satchel, balancing the burlap wrapped vial in her free hand. "See, each of these is labelled by who ordered it." She leaned close and Midoriya sucked in a breath, butterflies beating around his stomach like mad. He watched as she pulled free a little piece of parchment from within the burlap. Smudges of something was written on it. Presumably the address or customer information. "See?" Uraraka said. Midoriya nodded, sheepish.

"Uh, I guess so." He was too embarrassed to admit he couldn't read it, and Uraraka didn't seem to notice. Instead, she darted up the steps and grabbed the knocker, banging it rapidly against the door. There was a pause, then the sound of footsteps. Midoriya could hear the scrape of metal- a latch, maybe- and the door creaked open, revealing a young boy, no older than ten. He peered out the door with curious eyes, glancing between himself and Uraraka and back again.

Uraraka leaned a bit, her smile as bright as ever. "Hi!" she chirped. "Is any of your parents home?"

The boy hesitated. Uraraka showed the package balanced delicately in her hands. "Your parents ordered a charm, see?" She beamed, impossibly brighter, and the boy's eyes grew wide. He disappeared back inside, and moments later an adult woman with mousy hair appeared.

"Yes?"

Uraraka curtseyed. "I have a delivery for the Kabayashi residence. A fortune charm."

There was an exchange; the woman produced coins from the folds of her skirts, and Uraraka carefully counted the silver before pocketting it and handing off the vial. She curtseyed again and bounced down the steps, the door shutting behind her. Uraraka beamed at Midoriya then, and he had to duck lest he be blinded. "Ready for the next one?" she asked.

"Sure."

Thus they continued, hopping from street to street, delivering charms and potions alike. Despite Ochako's many gentle reassurances, Midoriya still felt as though the many crisscrossing alleyways and cobblestone streets created a labyrinth, and it wasn't long before his head was spinning and every street looked the same as the last. He stuck to Uraraka like glue, gaze focused on the flashes of her soles as they marched. More and more people seemed to appear, milling about. He brushed past the locals, hardly looking at them for fear of their piercing and questioning gazes. Midoriya had no desire to draw attention to himself. He kept his chin tucked, gaze locked on the soles of Uraraka's boots, trying desperately to keep up without knocking into anyone. The density of people seemed to increase by the passing moment, and at one point, Midoriya's shoulder thumped against that of a passerby, making him stumble and his gaze fly up from the ground. He opened his mouth to stutter an apology, but the feel of a warm hand enclosing his wrist wrenched his attention, and Midoriya found himself staring into the earthy gaze of Uraraka. "You okay?" she asked, voice soft. He gulped, dipping his head in a nod.

They were now in what seemed to be the thick of the market. Shops lined the streets, some with awnings and wares on the doorsteps of the buildings. People milled about, peeking in windows or at displays. Voices rose and fell as merchants haggled with potential buyers. It was busy here, and Midoriya found himself gravitating closer to Uraraka. She turned, a grin wide and bright. "Come on," she said, clasping at his wrist and tugging. Midoriya let himself be led through the crowd to a shop at the end of the street. A sign hung over the doorway, the script on it loopy and clean. There was a small window with no display; an oddity, in this part of town. Uraraka pushed through the heavy wooden door, leading them inside.

Midoriya squinted against the change in light. There was a splash of sunlight flowing in from the small window, mixing with some soft lamplight from the gas laps fixed to the walls. It was quite jarring compared to the bright sunlight outside, and Midoriya nearly stumbled into Uraraka when she stopped in the threshold. "Hakamata?" she said.

"I'd tell you to come in, but it appears you've already welcomed yourselves," a voice answered. Uraraka chuckled lightly, though her shoulders were stiff and posture hunched. Midoriya peered over her shoulder. There, in the middle of the shop, stood two men. One was tall, slender, with golden hair falling in wisps over his forehead. He hovered near the other, sticking something into the droopy fabric of the larger man's sleeves.

"Sorry," Uraraka said, "we're just here to drop off your delivery."

Midoriya's gaze wandered. The shop was small; little more than a tiny boxed room. To the side of the men sat a polished mirror, the rotund man gazing into it with such disinterest Midoriya wondered if he was drifting off into a snooze. Behind them was a countertop made of polished oak, which had what appeared to be a kit of some sort. Various tools Midoriya had never seen before practically spilled right out of it. He could see something that resembled sheep shears, and was that yarn of some sort? If it was yarn, it was the thinnest he'd ever laid eyes on.

Beside the countertop were strange torsos, with fabric draped over them. There was a shelf across the way stacked high with rolls and rolls of different fabrics, of all sorts of colors. Beneath the shelf was a strange table, with iron legs that molded together at the bottom with- what was that, a pedal? The table had a box-lid-thing, that was open, and inside was a machine unlike any Midoriya had ever seen. Polished metal, with some sort of needle poking out of it. There was an oil lamp hanging on the wall beside it, lit and flickering, and a little plush stool set right in front.

"There," Hakamata said. He pulled back, arms disappearing to fold behind him. "How does it look?"

The round man scrutinized his reflection in the mirror, nodding slowly. "Good, good. This fit works, I think. Thank you, Hakamata-kun."

Hakamata inclined his head in a bow. "Of course. And I hope your trade isn't affected by the, ah, monsters, in the future."

Midoriya's breath hitched. Monsters? Here? A tremor ran down his spine, and he shrunk back behind Uraraka. The round man merely grumbled, reaching into his coat and producing a small, jingling sack. He handed it off to Hakamata and trundled away, shoving past Uraraka and Midoriya with hardly a glance. Hakamata pocketed the bag, before finally turning his attention to the two of them.

"Hello, Uraraka-san. How is business, these days?"

Uraraka stood a bit straighter. "Good! Very good. Hadou-san and I just got back from a foraging mission yesterday and we're already overflowing with new orders."

Hakamata dipped his head. "Well, you two are getting to be well known around these parts. I do recommend your shop to my customers, as well."

"Th-thank you, sir!"

"It is of no consequence, I assure you." Hakamata pulled the jingling bag from within his coat, brow raised. "You said you had my order, yes?"

Uraraka flinched, tearing her knapsack open and rifling through it. "Um, yes. Here it is!" She pulled out a burlap wrapped glass vial, holding it out towards Hakamata with a rigid posture. He plucked it delicately from her grasp, brows pulled together as he scrutinized the small package.

"Excellent. And how much do I owe you?"

In front of him, Uraraka shifted in place. Her shoulders were taught, and Midoriya could see the way she fiddled with her knapsack's strap. "Erm," she said, "I was sort of wondering if we could do a, um, different form of payment."

At this, Hakamata raised a brow. "Oh? And what would that be?"

Uraraka hesitated. She turned, her gaze meeting Midoriya's for a brief moment before she lurched forward. Midoriya was frozen in place. He watched with wide eyes as Uraraka stepped into the shop owner's space and rocked up onto her toes, whispering in his ear. Hakamata's stare turned to him, then, and Midoriya felt his face burn under the scrutiny. He shuffled his feet, tugging lightly on Uraraka's too short cloak. Were they speaking about him? But...why? Midoriya chewed on his lip, his thoughts swirling. Surely, it wasn't something bad, right? Uraraka had said something about different payment...He frowned, confusion muddling his thoughts. Midoriya didn't have long to dwell, however.

"Hmm...I see," Hakamata said, voice low. "You are aware that my services are highly regarded and sought after, yes? I could charge you more than just a mere charm."

Those ochre eyes of hers were lit with a determination Midoriya was beginning to associate with the young witch girl. "I could argue that my services are just as sought after; we do serve the king himself, after all."

There was a pause, a stalemate. Uraraka and Hakamata stared each other down, and the tension in the room sparked hot. The air was so still, it was suffocating. Midoriya hardly dared to breathe. His gaze flickered between them, fingers numb from how tightly he gripped the strap of his knapsack. A bead of sweat tracked down the back of his neck, sending a shiver down Midoriya's spine. For a moment, Midoriya feared Hakamata would kick them out. His eyes were like steel, his lips pulled into a taut frown. He stared down at Uraraka with such distaste; surely, they'd never be allowed inside this shop again. But then with a burdened sigh, the tension was blown from the room. Suddenly, it wasn't so stuffy anymore. Hakamata inclined his head in a shallow bow. "Very well." He turned to Midoriya. "Come here."

Midoriya blinked. He looked nervously at Uraraka, who beamed at him. She nodded, eyes gentle and warm. Oh. Okay. Midoriya squared his shoulders and stepped closer to Hakamata. He grasped Midoriya's shoulders with his slender hands, a sensation that made Midoriya start, and half dragged him, half guided him to stand in front of the mirror in the center of the shop. "Stay still," Hakamata said, voice curt. Midoriya gulped and nodded. He stood stock still, gaze locked with his reflection. In the mirror, Uraraka appeared beside him. She reached for his knapsack, pulling it off his shoulder with a gentle tug.

"I'll be back in a bit," she murmured. "I'm just gonna deliver around the block." And then she was gone, leaving Midoriya alone with Hakamata. He leveled Midoriya with another cold stare, the edges of his lips tilted up in an intimidating smile.

"Let's get started, shall we?"

Midoriya gulped.

**~#~#~#~**

A few hours later, and Midoriya was stepping out of the shop in a daze. Uraraka's cloak was folded up in his arms and he hugged it to his chest, looking about at the busy goings on of the street. When he hugged the cloak tighter, the strange sensation of cloth tightening around his arms and shoulders sent a pang of panic through his chest, and Midoriya loosened his grasp on the cloak to fiddle with the hem of his new shirt.

A new shirt. Just made by Hakamata, one of the best tailors in the kingdom, apparently. And Uraraka had convinced him to make it for Midoriya. To wear. He felt...different, somehow. The cotton material was foreign to Midoriya, as they never really had clothes made out of such fabrics back at home. And yet, for the first time since entering the city, he actually felt as though he fit in. People's stares didn't stick to him. Sure, his pants and boots were still stained and dirty, but now he was more or less dressed the same as the rest of the villagers.

"Deku!"

Uraraka's voice pulled him from his thoughts, and she bound up to him from the sea of people, a wide grin stretched on her lips. She skidded to a halt right in front of him, bags bouncing at her sides. Her lips pursed as she looked him up and down. Uraraka's eyes gleamed, and a satisfied grin warmed her features. She nodded, almost to herself. "Lookin' good," she said. Her gaze flickered to his, and Midoriya felt his heart stutter in his chest. "How do you like it?" Uraraka asked.

"Guh-good. It uh, it's different than I'm used to." He tugged again at the hem. The shirt was 'collared', as Hakamata had called it, with a deep v that could be laced up if he desired. The sleeves were long and cuffed, though currently Hakamata had rolled them up to his elbows, for a 'more refined look'. Midoriya wasn't sure exactly what that had meant. He just knew that it was a new shirt and yet another gift that Uraraka had provided for him, and he was now even more indebted to her and Hadou.

"Well, I think it looks good on you," Uraraka said, chin tucked and hair falling in her face. Midoriya's face heated and he dropped his gaze to the ground, fearful that if he didn't visualize the stone beneath his feet he'd start floating.

There was an awkward beat where Midoriya didn't know what to say. He chewed his lip, raising his chin just enough to see Uraraka through his lashes, his heart stuttering once more in his chest. Gods, she was pretty. The sun gleamed in her hair and warmed her rosy cheeks, and the soft look in her eyes made Midoriya fearful he was melting. Was it possible for limbs to melt by merely a glance? He wasn't sure. But given how many more possibilities magic wielded, it was certainly possible. Uraraka cleared her throat. "Um, I uh, managed to deliver most of the charms and potions while you were with Hakamata-sensei. We just have one last quadrant." She inclined her head. "Come on, I'll show you." Like that, she flounced off, leaving Midoriya blinking after her. Wait. She was gone. Walking away into the crowd…

"Wait! Uraraka-san!" he yelped, stumbling after her. But it seemed she didn't hear his cry, for she kept going. It was loud, too; the shops were busy and people were everywhere. Midoriya tried to catch up, he really did, but he couldn't even breathe without someone stepping into his path. His eyes strained as he tried in vain to keep Uraraka in his line of sight. Only, his shoulder kept thumping into someone, or he tread on a nice lady's foot, or a gaggle of shrieking kids nearly tripped him, and oh. Oh no. Midoriya felt the blood drain from his face as he whipped his head around. "Uraraka?" he yelped. She didn't answer. The crowd around him had swallowed her whole. Panic rolled in Midoriya's stomach, and the crowd around him started to spin a bit. Oh gods, he was alone. Where was he again? He frantically turned about, trying to locate some distinguishing feature. Uraraka had said the wall should be his guide, right? But how was he supposed to use a wall? He trembled, eyes burning with unshed tears. He was going to be mugged and killed and left to rot in the gutter and no one would ever know what happened to him, and how was he supposed to repay his debts if he was dead? Was he going to be trapped here as a ghost, forever cursed to haunt the streets as reparation for his unpaid debts?

Someone bowled into him, sending Midoriya fumbling to remain on his feet. "S-sorry!" he said, but no one seemed to hear him. He sucked in a breath. And another. He was fine. This was fine. He just...had to find his way to a street he remembered. How hard could that be? Midoriya squared his shoulders. He could do this.

To his right, were more shops. That was the way he and Uraraka had come from. She was leading him to the left, which meant if he went that way, there was a chance he could run into her. Midoriya chewed on his lip. Perhaps he could just walk that way for a bit, and see if he found her. Surely, she'd realize he wasn't beside her. Right?

Anxiety crawled under his skin, and Midoriya shoved that thought away with a shake. No, focus. He steeled himself and started in the direction he'd last seen his friend, senses wired on overdrive. Every flash of brown hair or pink cloth had Midoriya whipping around. Yet none yielded the missing witch-girl he was looking almost desperately for. He turned down the next street, gaze bouncing about. This one was wider; a main street, perhaps? Midoriya chewed on his lip as he looked around the crowd. Where could she have gone? And where was he, exactly? Should he ask for help? He stood in the middle of the street, mind racing a mile a minute as he weighed his options. If he asked around for help, someone could possibly point him back to the shop. That, or he could wander aimlessly around the city and get more and more lost. He tapped his chin, brow furrowed. It was in this state that a young boy bowled right into Midoriya, sending him into a sprawling heap on the ground.

Midoriya groaned. Ow. He pulled himself to a sitting position, rubbing at his head.

"Oh, no, oh, no!" The voice, airy and strained, pulled Midoriya from his daze, and he watched with wide eyes as the boy scrambled on his hands and knees, reaching for a scroll that had rolled a stone's throw away. He was young, with tousled hair and ruddy features, yet dressed in clothes well made and unstained. Midoriya caught the flash of a golden insignia woven onto his vest, before he lurched forward and snatched up the scroll. The boy clutched it to his chest, shoulders slumping, before he whipped around and tossed Midoriya a glare. "Watch it, dummy!" Before Midoriya could even process what had happened, the boy was on his feet and running again, disappearing into the crowd.

Huh. That was odd. He hauled himself to his feet and grimaced down at himself. Smudges of dust were smeared onto his new tunic. Great. Just, great. He dusted it off, grumbling all the while. It figured he'd get lost and mess up his first gift, all in the first day at his new home.

"Deku!"

That voice had his heart leaping to his chest, and Midoriya whirled around to see Uraraka dashing up to him. "Uraraka!" he cried, tears of relief burning in his eyes. Oh, thank the gods, he wouldn't have to sleep in an alleyway tonight-

His thoughts were pulled to a screeching halt when Uraraka threw herself onto him, arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders as she squeezed him in the warmest, tightest embrace he'd ever had in his life. Midoriya wheezed, face aflame. She was hugging him. Uraraka was hugging him. It was over as quickly as it had begun, and Uraraka pulled away all too soon. Her hands clasped his arms, gaze brimming with warmth and tears. "Deku, oh, gods! I'm so sorry, are you okay? I can't believe I lost you, I should have known better than to hurry off like that. Gods, I just turned around and you weren't there, and I freaked out; I think I scared everyone down the whole block when I started screaming. I'm so, so sorry! Oh, I'm the worst ever, please forgive me, Deku, I-"

He cut off her rambling by bringing hesitant hands to clasp her arms and give them a squeeze. "I'm okay," he said, voice wobbling. "Really."

Uraraka blinked. Her cheeks seemed to grow a bit pinker, but Midoriya was certain he was just imagining it. She nodded, smiling. "Okay. Okay, that's enough excitement for one day, yeah?"

Midoriya stifled a laugh. "Yeah."

They dropped their hands, and Uraraka inclined her head. "Come on. Let's finish up these last few deliveries and go home." Her hand slipped in his this time, and she tugged him along.

* * *

**...surprise? XD Lol, I have no explanation aside from life being insane and writing being hard sometimes. And also, a few certain friends of mine harassing me with love to get my butt back in gear so. Here we are, at last! Thanks for reading!**

**-Kat**


	9. Nine

Midoriya was entranced. He leaned from his place on the rickety wooden stool, watching Uraraka move about the tiny kitchen with practiced grace. A massive pot sat on the wood burning stove, steam rising steadily from it. Herbs of all sorts were stacked onto the table, and perched precariously amidst the madness, was a massive book that sat open and proud. Uraraka hummed to herself as her gaze trailed across its worn pages, hair falling into her face like a curtain.

She was making potions. The type of potion varied from order to order. According to Uraraka, people would order just about anything. Potions to slow aging, which she'd giggled suspiciously about, love potions, potions to heal various ailments. A piece of parchment was tacked to the cabinets above the stove, with a list of the potions or charms that needed making. Midoriya had given it a glance but couldn't actually make heads or tails out of the loopy, inked scratches. Not that it mattered, as he wasn't the one _making_ the potions. Though, he was helping, a bit.

"Hmm, just add a pinch of rosemary…" Uraraka whirled around, sprinkling something into the pot, unfamiliar words falling from her lips and crashing in Midoriya's ears. A shiver ran up his spine. He watched with wide eyes as the potion lit up in a purple hue, puffs of steam bursting into the air. Whoa. Uraraka, however, was unphased by the change. She stirred the concoction, brows furrowed in concentration. His gaze flickered to her, and he chewed his lip. Warmth filled his chest. She looked so pretty like that, focused as she was. Embarrassment was quick to fill his stomach and quell the butterflies that fluttered there, and Midoriya looked away. Instead, he listened to the strange words that fell from Uraraka's lips, like an ancient song. The hue of the potion shifted from purple to blue, then to green, and at last, Uraraka set down the wooden spoon, grinning. "Finally!"

Midoriya blinked. "Is it done?"

"Yep!" Uraraka set to trimming the flame, hair bobbing as she worked. "Cool, right?"

He nodded, sliding off his stool to peer into the pot. Whatever the potion was, it looked thick, like porridge his neighbor always made, except it glowed a bright green. "Why is it...glowing?" he asked. Uraraka shrugged, snorting a bit.

"No idea, actually. It's a prank potion; it's supposed to make someone fall asleep for like twenty minutes. But that doesn't really have much to do with the glowing, I don't think." She scrunched up her nose, head tilting in thought. "I guess that's a question for Hadou."

It was precisely that moment that Hadou deigned to poke her head up into the living space and startle them both. "'Chako! You done with that potion yet?"

They both let out an undignified yelp, and Midoriya stumbled back into the countertop in his attempt to whirl around. He was met with the sight of Hadou poking up from the hatch, leaning on her arms and looking at them with raised brows. A flush rose to his cheeks, and Midoriya looked away. Uraraka cleared her throat. "Was that necessary?" she quipped, eyes narrowed. Hadou snickered.

"Yes, yes it was."

A light breeze tickled at Midoriya's skin and rustled his clothes. He snuck a glance at Uraraka, who had an annoyed pout painting her features. "You're insane," she muttered. "And yes, for your information, it's done. Just cooling, now."

Hadou hummed. "Good. Mister Mera will be here to pick that up shortly." She didn't wait for a response, disappearing back down into the shop. Uraraka ran a hand through her hair and breathed a sigh. She dropped her glare to the book spread out onto the table. It softened, and she reached out and closed it with a resolute 'thwump'.

"Hadou is too much sometimes," Uraraka muttered. Midoriya snorted. That was one way to put it. He climbed back onto his stool, watching with interest as Uraraka peered back at the potion. It still glowed, though not quite as brightly as before. She seemed pleased, though, brows raising and eyes lighting up a bit. "Hmm. Hey, Deku?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you do me a favor and grab a clean vial? There should be one down in the shop by the counter."

"Yeah, sure," he said. Midoriya hopped off his stool, gaze lingering on Uraraka as she bent over the potion. Her hair framed her face just so, her eyes were bright and focused… He gulped, face hot, and turned away abruptly. Midoriya practically tripped as he scurried to the ladder and descended it.

The storage room, though musty and packed with order upon order, was warm. Cozy, almost. He leaned his forehead against a rung on the ladder and sighed, trying to calm his erratic heart. Gods, he really needed to pull himself together. This was embarrassing. He sucked in a breath. And another. Midoriya pushed away from the ladder and strode into the shop.

It was a slow day. No patrons lingered amidst the shelves; all Midoriya could see was Hadou leaning against the counter, chatting with Yaoyorozu. He fiddled with the hem of his sleeve as he drew near. "U-um, Hadou-san? Y-Yaoyorozu-san?"

Both gazes landed on him, and Midoriya couldn't help but fidget under the scrutiny. He opened his mouth to ask about the vial, but before he could, a loud rapping rang out through the shop. Hadou turned to Yaoyorozu, brows raised. "Were you expecting any guests or clients today?"

Yaoyorozu shook her head, seemingly baffled. "No, I wasn't. And Mister Mera wasn't due for another hour." She set her quill pen down and sighed. "I wonder who it could be?"

Hadou shrugged. She turned and flounced to the door, tossing it open and leaning against the doorframe. "Hadou the wind witch at your service," she chirped. Yaoyorozu rolled her eyes, and Midoriya had to bite back a snicker. _Trust Hadou-san to answer the door so cheekily,_ he thought.

A young voice trickled in. "The King is requesting an audience with you, Miss Hadou-san."

Midoriya's brows furrowed. The king? He crept closer, eyes going wide as he peered over Hadou's shoulder. Standing in their stoop, was the same kid that had ran into him the day prior. Like yesterday, he was dressed sharply; pressed trousers and a brightly colored vest, that golden insignia blazing in the sunlight. In his extended hands was a scroll, much like the one he'd dropped in the streets. Their gazes locked, and the kid's eyes went wide with fury. Fortunately, Hadou chose then to snatch the scroll, drawing the kid's attention away from Midoriya. She unrolled it and scanned the contents, humming thoughtfully. "Thank you," she said. "You may tell the king we shall be there shortly." Hadou then thrust the scroll back at the kid and unceremoniously slammed the door shut. She turned, brows raised as her gaze landed on Midoriya, and sighed.

"Do me a favor? Go tell Ochako to get ready." She paused, lips pursing in a frown. "And to grab the King's order. Might as well drop it off when we get there…"

He nodded stiffly, Hadou's words swirling around in his head. So many questions crowded against his lips, but they felt trapped on his tongue.

Back at home, they didn't have a king. There was a council of sorts, headed by the elders of their village and the higher ups of the Guild. Captain Bakugou and all her feral glory was probably the closest they had to royalty. And in his own village, having an audience with the captain of the Guild was an honor of the highest degree. Was it the same, then, with a king? He thought so. So then, why was the king calling for Hadou? Did she know the king? He didn't get that impression. Perhaps it was naive to think, but Midoriya imagined that there'd be more...glamour involved with knowing the king. Right?

The musty smell of the storage closet tickled his nose. Midoriya frowned as he reached for the ladder, the worn wood slipping against his palms. Then again, he supposed he didn't know Hadou that well at all. He'd lived here what, a handful of days? Sure, she'd saved him from the forest, but that wasn't reason to assume things about the quirky witch. He was still lost in his thoughts as he pulled himself up into the livingspace, hardly even noticing Uraraka's gaze landing on him.

"Did you get me the vial?"

Midoriya blinked. "Oh, um, no...sorry." He clamoured to his feet. Uraraka hovered over the potion, brows furrowed as she looked at him over her shoulder. Midoriya fidgeted under the scrutiny. He looked at the open book settled on the table instead, the worn pages fluttering slightly under a gentle breeze. "Someone came to the door. A-apparently you're being summoned. By, uh, the king." Midoriya peeked at Uraraka then. There was a frown on her lips, and something clouding in her eyes. She brushed her hands on her skirts and sighed.

"Of course we are," she muttered. Uraraka waved a hand, and a gust burst forth, sending pages of the spellbook flying. It shut, then, though some of the herbs were sent flying across the room, too. She didn't seem to care too much, instead striding towards him and dropping down the ladder. Midoriya was left alone, gawking.

Huh.

He shrugged to himself and padded to the kitchen, bending down to clean up the fallen herbs. Midoriya hummed as he organized the dried plants into little piles. Many of them were brittle, threatening to crumble at the slightest touch. Plus, there were a mix of smells; some bitter, some sweet, and some very pungent. He wrinkled his nose, sweeping the broken leaf fragments into his hand so he could dispose of the waste.

"Deku!"

Midoriya jumped, arms flailing, and whirled around. Uraraka peered up at him from the trapdoor, eyes crinkled and light. "Aren't you coming?" she said. He blinked.

"You...you want me to come?"

Uraraka nodded, earnest. "Yes, silly, now come on!" She disappeared from view, leaving Midoriya staring after her. They...wanted him to come? He had to take a minute to really process that information, the gears in his mind stuttering as they whirred to life, absorbing what had just taken place. After a solid second of rebooting, his mind caught up, and Midoriya was practically tripping over himself in his haste.

**~#~#~#~**

The castle was massive.

Midoriya had seen it, obviously, when they first arrived at the city, but now witnessing it up close as they crossed the moat and passed through the first gate? It was _massive_. Red sandstone brick, stacked with precision, creating arches and pillars and patterns aplenty. He craned his neck to gaze up at the battlements, gawking. They rose so high, it was as if they were touching the sky itself.

They were ushered through quickly, led by a few guards sporting spears and swords. Midoriya recognized one; the guy from the outskirts of the city, with the glasses- Iida, was it? He only looked at Midoriya once, lips drawn in a thin line, and Midoriya had decidedly kept his gaze fixed on his feet. His boots scuffed against the vivid green grass, leaving smears against the old leather, and he could feel the comforting thump of the delivery satchel as it thumped against his hip. He held onto the strap with both hands, using it like an anchor.

Ahead, Uraraka and Hadou walked with heads ducked close, murmuring to each other. They spoke in low tones, and Midoriya could only catch the barest of snippets. He stepped a bit lighter, drawing ever so slightly closer.

"...could be?"

"I don't know...rumors could be true…"

"Do you really think there's _monsters_-?"

"Shush, no, I…"

"...destroyed a town…"

"...Champion? He's been gone for…"

Midoriya's brows scrunched. The pieces of murmurings he heard made little sense, and he didn't bother drawing closer, instead choosing to scan the grounds instead. Trimmed hedges lined the main path, and Midoriya could see a clearing to his left where soldiers trained. A group milled about, watching a pair wrestle in the dirt. To his right, looked to be a massive stables. Stable Hands scurried to and fro, carrying buckets or saddles, or just leaning against the wooden entryway. A few horses were picketed outside, grazing under the warm sun. Their coats were slick and shone brightly; his hand twitched with the want to pet the gentle giants. But their group was ushered on under the shadow of the castle's arch. Massive wooden doors creaked as they swung open, revealing a foyer grander than anything Midoriya had ever seen in his entire life. He was almost afraid to step inside.

The floors were white, made of some sort of stone, and polished so brightly, Midoriya could see his reflection as clear as though he was staring into a pool in a stream. Pillars, wide and tall, lured Midoriya's gaze to follow them up, up, and up to the vaulted ceiling, where chandeliers glittered with hundreds of flickering candles. He wondered faintly how they managed to light those candles from so far away. Some sort of rigging, perhaps? His attention was drawn away, flitting to the plush rugs underfoot, and the many statues lining the foyer, or even the giant paintings hung on the walls. Midoriya could only stare. There was just...so much space. He was used to small, cozy. Wooden walls and a fire pit. Not..._this_.

Midoriya had to resist the urge to pinch himself. And this was only the grand foyer.

"Miss Hadou-san, Miss Uraraka-san." A man stood at attention, brightly colored hair slicked back and dressed in pressed trousers and a deep, crimson vest with a familiar golden insignia stitched into it- the same insignia the boy wore. He bowed then, at the waist. "Please, follow me." He turned on his heel and led them deeper into the hall, footsteps muted by the long, maroon rug that ran from the doorway up to a massive staircase. Uraraka and Hadou followed without a word, and Midoriya stumbled on after them, wide-eyed and gawking. The first leg of the staircase led to another set of massive, polished, oaken doors, with one smaller set of stairs leading upwards to the left and to the right. Smaller chandeliers provided a little sneak peak to wide hallways and more vaulted ceilings, but their guide led them forward, throwing open the doors and striding inside.

And oh, gods. Logically, Midoriya knew things could be grander, but he still felt as though his eyes were bugging out of his sockets as he took in the hall they now stood in. The same white, polished floors shone in the ambient light here, reflections of a matching, glowing chandelier hanging overhead dotting the space. Massive pillars arose on either side, making the hall feel long, dominating. Between each pillar stood a knight, decked out in full, silver armor, polished and glowing in the flickering light. They held long spears, tips glittering with a deadly familiarity, and Midoriya shrunk and stepped closer to Hadou and Uraraka. His gaze skirted ahead, breath lodging in his throat.

There, rising from the floor, was the throne. Carved meticulously, feet like that of clawed fenrirs, shining the brightest of golds, and pointed, delicate spikes, like rays of a sun, rising out of the back. Seated in the throne like he belonged sat a man that commanded obedience with his mere presence. He was massive, easily four heads taller than himself, with wide shoulders and dressed in a tunic stitched in reds and golds, a cape of velvet clasped around his neck with a clasp of a familiar design- the same insignia stitched onto the steward and squire. Deep shadows cut across his features, contrasting the golden highlights flickering across his skin. There were basins roaring with flame resting on either side of the throne, throwing chaotic light across the room. Above the throne, a blank wall was cast in shadow, a strange sight in such a grand space.

The king stared them down, gaze icy, cold, calculating, and familiar in a way that had Midoriya trembling. He looked to his feet as they slowed their approach, shrinking even more under the heavy scrutiny.

"His Majesty, the King, I present to you the wind witches of the south, Miss Hadou-san and Miss Uraraka-san, and their entourage."

Midoriya peeked up in time to see Houda and Uraraka give a deep curtsey, and he squeezed his eyes shut and bowed stiffly.

"Hadou-san. I hear business flourishes for you." The king's voice boomed through the expansive space, every bit as deep and commanding as the rest of him. Midoriya swallowed a lump in his throat, gaze fixed on the shine of his polished shoes.

"It is. Thank you," Hadou said, clipped and curt. She stood ramrod straight, shoulders set and chin high, her long hair brushing against her lower back. "To what pleasure do I owe this summons?"

One red brow arched, frown deepening in the lines across the king's face. "You speak as though we don't have business together."

Hadou snorted, and the gentlest of breezes swirled through the room, rustling at Midoriya's tunic, hair, and making the firelight waver ever so slightly. "Oh, I'm well aware we do. Usually, though, you don't ask for personal delivery."

His Majesty, the King, scoffed at that. He leaned back, brows raised, combing a hand through his short, flame colored beard. "Are you suggesting you came without thinking to bring my order?" There was a dangerous edge, there, sizzling in the space between them. Hadou dipped into another curtsey, shallower and less showy than the prior.

"I wouldn't dream of such a thing." She looked to Midoriya, then, tilting her head to beckon him forward. The king's gaze descended on him, then, and Midoriya found that he was quaking in his boots. He shuffled forward, gaze locked onto the plush rug underfoot and hands gripping the strap of his satchel so tightly they were numb. Midoriya fumbled with the flap, reaching in to grasp the burlap wrapped vial. He pulled it out and presented it with a bow, afraid to meet that frigid gaze.

"You may rise."

Midoriya shot upright, grip tight on the vial as he shuffled back. Heat blossomed across his face, but the king's attention was no longer fixed on him. Instead, he sighed and rested an elbow on his armrest, sparing a bored glance at the steward who'd led them through the foyer. "Fetch Kamiji."

The steward bowed at the waist and hurried off.

"I take it you ran into no trouble on your restocking expenditure?"

Hadou blinked, brows furrowing. "It went without a hitch," she said, slow, careful. "I'm flattered you care enough to track our expenditures."

His Majesty, the King chuckled dryly. "I track all expenditures in my kingdom." He leaned forward, hands clasping and clothes rustling. "It's my business to know how trade is running after all. You've heard of the monster attacks, I presume?"

Hadou sighed. "We've heard rumors, yes. But I figured it was hearsay." She shrugged. "You know how rumors abound, in these parts."

He hummed. "Yes, well. Whole caravans have been ravaged by these so-called monsters, their survivors all spouting the same tales. Beasts taller than buildings, dark colors, matching the night, and eyes that glow like hellfire."

Midoriya's blood ran cold. Vivid images of glittering teeth and glowing, vacant eyes filled his thoughts, and he felt his legs quake beneath him. His heart pounded and pounded, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Part of Midoriya hoped that night was nothing more than a strange nightmare- it almost felt like it, now, a whole lifetime away. He could feel Uraraka's warm gaze settle on him, brittle with worry, but he couldn't do more than focus on breathing and the firelight dancing across the rug under his feet.

"At this point, I have to consider the legitimacy of the claims. So, pardon me for the intrusive questions. You understand I have to look out for the safety of my kingdom, yes?" His Majesty, the King's gaze glittered like ice in the sunlight, and Midoriya couldn't suppress the shudder if he tried. And try he did.

Hadou bowed her head and dipped into another curtsey. "Of course. I hope His Majesty, the King, can accept my sincerest apologies, I spoke rashly."

"It can be overlooked."

The room grew heady, hot. The air was stifled, here, nary a wisp of a breeze. Midoriya felt as though he couldn't breathe, so stiff and humid it was. Hadou's eyes flashed like lightning, expression dark and stormy. She said nothing, though, waiting instead for the king to speak.

It was then that the click of heavy doors echoed in the hall. Midoriya couldn't help but glance over his shoulder. A woman strode towards them, long, red and gold skirts rustling. She held her head high, golden hair piled in a messy knot atop her head, warm eyes glittering. She paused some way back, curtseying deep and low. "His Majesty, the King," she said. "You summoned me?"

"Our order from Winds Apothecary has arrived. Take the boy with you and file it away."

The woman- Kamiji, presumably- curtseyed again, and shifted her focus to Midoriya. "Follow me," she said. She whirled around and strode back towards the doors, leaving Midoriya to stumble after her.

They exited the throne room with little fanfare, the echo of the doors clicking shut reverberating in Midoriya's ears. Kamiji steered right, skirts swish-swishing as she marched right up the next flight of stairs, not once missing a beat. She didn't wait for Midoriya either, and he had to jog to catch up, vial still clutched tightly in his hands. He hadn't put it back, and now he was stuck carrying it as he jogged because there was no way he could put it away and keep up- after his short audience with the king, Midoriya had no intentions on breaking or ruining his order.

The hallway was wide, that same cut of plush rug running down the length of it. There were arches upon arches, arched doorways, vaulted ceilings- the architecture had Midoriya wide-eyed. Tapestries hung on the walls, depicting sceneries that Midoriya didn't have time to decipher. Statues carved out of gleaming crystal rose up from the floor, of faces Midoriya couldn't see. Kamiji's pace didn't leave much time for musing, as much as he'd love to. She led him past doorway after doorway, turning and turning, once, twice, three times. Through a door and down a more rickety stairwell, smaller, narrower. Another door- smaller, less decorative, and suddenly, the castle was alive.

Where once were massive, empty, and decorative hallways was now a tiny, narrow one, with people bustling to and fro. Women, with skirts matching Kamiji's, scurrying about, arms loaded with linens, or mops and buckets. Boys, as young as the boy from the streets to barely younger than himself dodged around the women, carrying scrolls, or trays piled high with food or dirty plates. Midoriya clutched the vial to his chest and stuck to Kamiji like glue, eyes wide.

They had entered the servant's quarters.

"Kamiji-san! Have you seen the bedchamber linens?"

"No, of course she hasn't, she's been busy, ya coal chip." A rosy cheeked maiden bustled past, brown curls bouncing as she shook her head. "They're down in the wash- something ya'd know if ya were payin' attention."

Kamiji laughed, loud and boisterous, throwing her head back and whirling around, skirts twirling, "Lose yer brain again, Baka?"

More laughter arose from those hurrying about, echoing in the smaller space. Baka huffed, throwing her hands up in an unfamiliar gesture that had Kamiji snickering more. She repeated the gesture back and whirled back around without even breaking stride. The confident set of her shoulders and the ease in which she shouted greetings and quips to passerbys was not lost on Midoriya. He was awed, somewhat, how she weaved and dodged with effortless grace. He, meanwhile, was not quite so lucky, nearly running into or tripping over someone with almost every step.

How Midoriya managed to keep ahold of the vial was a mystery to him.

Towards the end of the bustling hallway, Kamiji veered right, not even waiting as she flung open the door and strode inside. Midoriya, in an effort to follow, rammed right into a pair of maidens burned with a basket of clothing. A yelp flew past his lips, and he stumbled back, nearly losing his footing. The maidens weren't quite so lucky- their basket flew to the floor, clothes spilling everywhere. One of the girls even fell, blinking as though shocked that such a thing could happen. Oh, oh gods, he was such an idiot. Midoriya fumbled to stuff the vial back into the satchel, before lurching forward to help fix the mess.

"O-o-oh, I'm so-sorry! Are you alright?" He extended a hesitant hand, worrying his lip as the girl peered up at him. She blew a loose curl from her face and eyed his hand.

"You not know how to watch where y'er going?" she grumbled, ignoring his extended hand to shift onto her knees, reaching for the overturned basket. Midoriya shrunk back, face burning. The other maiden snorted, hand on her hips and lips downturned into a frown.

"Clearly not."

Midoriya was left to watch as the two women set to work cleaning up the mess he'd caused. He...he should help, right? This was his fault to begin with. If he had been a little faster, he'd have dodged and not caused such a mess...and these poor women were just trying to do their jobs and he'd interrupted that. Like a dunce. Midoriya chewed his lip. They didn't seem to care for his help either way, but it felt wrong to just leave. So, he shuffled forward and knelt down, quietly plucking some of the fallen trousers and blouses and tunics off the floor and placing them into the big basket.

It took a minute for the three of them to clear the mess, and Midoriya handed over the last blouse with a quiet, "Here." He clamored to his feet and bowed, face still heated. "And sorry again." Midoriya dashed around the ladies then, bounding to the door Kamiji disappeared behind and reached for its worn door knob. The metal was cool in his grasp, and the hinges creaked as he pushed his way through.

Soft light filtered in through a small sliver of a window, high up on the far wall, accompanied by oil lamps flickering from their fixtures on the walls. The room itself was fairly small compared to everything else in the castle- perhaps as big as the living space back at the apothecary shop. A massive oaken table took up the center of the room, piled high with a variety of dishware and glasses and other strange things Midoriya didn't recognize. To his left were floor to ceiling shelves, with jars and vials and sprigs of plants alike, lined all nice and neatly. Kamiji leaned against the shelves inspecting her nails, barely sparing Midoriya a glance as he tiptoed his way inside.

"Thought ya' got lost out there," she said. Midoriya fiddled with his satchel strap and frowned.

"Sorry."

Kamiji sighed, offering a one shoulder shrug. "Whatever, kid. Bring the potion on over, and I'll take it off yer hands."

His brows pinched. "I-is there some sort of payment?"

Another sigh, and Kamiji rolled her eyes. "Obviously. Yer payment is given once we confirm the order."

Oh. That made sense, he supposed. Midoriya shuffled forward, gaze flitting about. A narrow tapestry of reds and scarlets hung on his right, golden stitching of the king's insignia practically glowing in the firelight. Midoriya wasn't entirely sure of the design- it appeared to be a bird of some sort, feathers ablaze. A phoenix, perhaps?

In his musing, Midoriya didn't notice the crease in the rug. He went to step, only for his boot to catch and his whole body lurch forward. A yelp sprung past his lips, and his arms flew out to the sides as he attempted to catch his balance. He was dangerously close to falling spectacularly on his face, but a firm grip latched onto his arm, and steadied him. Midoriya blinked, sheepish as he blinked up at Kamiji's bemused stare.

"Ya alright there, kid?"

He nodded. "Ya-yeah."

She released him once he was steady and chuckled. "Suppose I coulda' warned ya. Floor's a little uneven- the new rug doesn't entirely fit and we didn't have the heart to cut it down ta size."

Midoriya's gaze dropped to the rug. It was thinner than the one outside, and definitely not a solid red. It...was a picture? He took a step back. He could make out strong, masculine hands, wrapped firmly around what looked to be a hilt of a sword. The table obscured most of the woven picture, but Midoriya could make out wide set shoulders dressed in a flowing red cape. He tilted his head. "I-is that...the king?"

Kamiji snorted. "Nah, he wishes. 'Tis the Champion, 'fore he disappeared."

At this, Midoriya perked up. Champion… He glanced at the makeshift rug again. Despite the creases and dusty footprints, and a few spots worn almost threadbare, it was a stunning thing. A midnight blue backdrop, with what appeared to be stars, woven in such a way they seemed to glow. Though, they didn't fill the whole night sky- Midoriya could only see two from his vantage point. One beside the Champion's shoulder, and one a few inches closer to Kamiji. If he leaned, he could see a third, though the table sort of obstructed his view. His gaze, though, was drawn once again to the pommel and sword- silver and gold threads woven together just so- it appeared to gleam in the low light.

"It used to hang in the throne room," Kamiji said, then. "When the Champion vanished, King Enji insisted we take it down." Her features pinched, shadows flickering in her expression. "He wanted us to burn it but...that felt wrong."

Midoriya stared down at the hands clasped around the sword hilt, brow furrowed. Kamiji's words rang in his ears, echoing with that hollow note of melancholy that had his heart twinging in his chest. Whoever the Champion was, he seemed...important. Missed.

So why did he vanish?

"So, now we've got a new rug." Kamiji grinned, though it was dimmed, somehow. "Anyways, lemme get that potion filed away so we can get yer funds to ya."

Yes, right, the vial. Midoriya fumbled with his satchel, flipping it open and fishing out the vial. He handed it to Kamiji, who inspected it with a critical eye. She tapped at the cork seal, untied the burlap and examined the contents, swishing it around a bit, and even scanned over the parchment bundled beneath the burlap. After what felt to be eons of nervously watching her inspect his friends' handiwork, Kamiji nodded to herself and set it on the table with care. "Looks just right." She reached into her blouse and pulled out a rope necklace, with a key tied to it. Kamiji tugged it off and knelt down, reaching under the table. She pulled out a heavy, oaken chest, with an old iron padlock on its front, keyhole matching the key Kamiji held in her hand. She jammed the key and twisted, and the padlock opened with a distinct click. Midoriya watched her rummage for something. Kamiji closed the chest after a moment and straightened, a bulging sack clutched in her hand. "Here."

It was a sack of coins. Full of coins, actually- it jingled when she set it in his outstretched palm, and Midoriya nearly gasped at the unsuspected weight. He wondered how much it was. It certainly felt like a lot- it was more than the patrons in the city gave Uraraka, possibly twice as much. Though, to be fair, he had no idea what the values were. They didn't use this sort of currency at his old village. Trade was far more common. An even exchange of goods; wool for meat, meat for supplies or clothes, jewelry for tools, or whatever else. The coins seemed a bit like an unnecessary middle step to Midoriya. But, this was how things ran, here in the city. So he took the coin sack and dropped it into his satchel, ensuring it was properly fastened.

Kamiji took the vial and turned to the wall of shelves, placing it amidst a row of identical ones. "There. Let's getcha to the main foyer, eh?" she said, shooting him a wry grin. Midoriya just fiddled with his satchel strap and hummed. He supposed it would be impolite to interrupt the summons in the throne room. Hopefully they were nearly done…

He followed Kamiji out the door and into the hallway, casting one last glance over his shoulder at the former tapestry on the floor, the image of the sword's intricately woven pommel reflecting in his mind's eye.

* * *

**So I totally forgot to post this here... Whoopsies XD But it's here now! So enjoy!**

**-Kat**


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